Hydra Dominatus
by Ciella-Jazzerman
Summary: 3 years after Robotnik's death, the scars he left are healing slowly. Now the populace is its own worst enemy. What does a society do when raised on war, and there is no longer a war to fight?
1. Chapter 1

And this is the long-awaited debut of our series! Thanks to YogaForever for editing this chapter and the one immediately following.

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"He's…" Max paused, forming the words and glancing directly at Geoffrey St. John's dark-furred hand, who stood a little ways away with a glass between his fingers. He thought briefly of the private stock that Quack had made him get rid of. He sighed. "…He's fine, I suppose. I won't deny I wish he would have stayed on the throne, no reason to lie at this stage of my life."

Of course, Geoff knew he spoke of Elias again of how he'd surrendered the throne willingly to Sally. He grimaced at the amber liquid swirling gently in his glass. Max's remorse could spoil the best booze. Geoff let out a puff of a sigh on the old topic. "Well, Sire, I'm sorry that wish wadn't fulfilled…" Although, I can't say I'm terribly sorry Eli didn't rule!", he thought.

To this, Max simply sighed and shook his head, shaking the matter off with it. His eyes rose to gaze at St. John, speaking plainly, "I can't force the throne on him; he has the traditional right to surrender the throne to his younger sibling. As it stands, Sally always did seem to be the…more natural leader. Without her, none of this," he gave a grand sweep of the arm to show off the sitting room they were standing in, in all of its elegance and superiority, "would have come to pass." Again, he shook his head; defeated by reality and by the sight of St. John's tempting drink. "Damn kidneys," he muttered to himself.

Chuckling, relieved that the storm had passed, Geoff changed the subject. "Any news on when y'think Sally'll give ya y'first grandchile?"

To this, Max could only laugh. "If their wedding night was at all like mine – all those ages ago – it would've been nine months to the day. The hedgehog may have had a lot of freedom in the past, but I will tell you this Geoff; when you marry any woman, you suddenly find yourself restrained. But that little rapscallion's in for a whole different barrel of commitment." He smirked, almost as if enjoying his new son-in-law's newfound restriction. "I almost wonder if he can stand it… 'King Sonic,' heh."

"But sire, han't it been a few years?" Geoff threw back, scratching his back with a little embarrassed knit of the eyebrows.

"Well, that's what I thought." Max frowned.

"Then again," Geoff leaned back a bit with a cross of the arms, looking a little like a cross old man for the moment, "I dun think any o' my family came on time. We were an impatient lot from the womb, I should think!" The skunk seemed to consider but snapped out of it, almost as if just now he'd heard Max's statement about the marriage. He did a double-take and pondered, "What, y'think there's a problem?"

"I try not to pry into their personal lives. Last thing they want is their father wanting to know the details of their bedroom antics. It's hard enough for me to think of it, being that we're talking about my daughter." He paused, an affectionate wistfulness lingering on the mention of his little girl. He harrumphed and said in a final tone, "I'll wait a few months before asking why they haven't performed their royal duty of providing an heir. What about you though, Geoff? You can't just have your work- I remember how you were when you still had a whole team under your command. You don't have that much responsibility anymore."

With a quirk of his brow, Geoff turned sideways and took a rather long sip of his scotch, evasive at the turn of the tables. When he finally swallowed, he remarked half-heartedly, "Eh, half my team was dead before I fin'ly called it quits. I didn't want… eh. But now, like I tol'joo, I'm low man on th'totem pole." He sniffed, "th'squad's got me ridin' in th'ambulance 16 hours a day anyhow."

"Bah! I've just made a hypocrite of myself, haven't I?" Max grinned, a grin of comfort, like a father to a son. "Prying into your personal life, I mean. Forgive an old man, Geoffrey. With my… immobility, I rarely get many visitors."

Geoff smiled warmly and gripped the old man's shoulder, gently so as not to hurt him, but roughly enough so as to let him know he wasn't being coddled. "Sire, y'don't have t'worry abou' this soldier. I'll be comin' t'visit just as I do. Hell! I kin do all the things y'miss an' I still ain't got a soul to see me." Geoff grinned again, disheartened to see Max feeling this way. He wanted to cheer up his old friend; he'd been like a father to him, after all. He was about to open his mouth to offer a few kind words when his pager went off at a high, obnoxious pitch. He jumped up at the sound. "Damn! F'give me, Sire, I gotta run! See y'soon!"

With that, he burst out the room, nearly trampling the crowned Queen on his way out and her way in. Max smiled the fading smile of a lonely man watching his company go.

"Sorry, love! On call!" Geoff apologized awkwardly over his shoulder, making a mad-dash down the hall.

"Good luck, Sir Geoffrey!" Max called, hoping silently that Geoff would never ride the ambulance that carried him to the hospital on the inevitable day that he should pass on.

Sally righted herself, flustered but not at all offended. She understood, of course, the urgency of his duty to the ambulance crew.

"Are you alright, my queen?" Antoine inquired, as he passed through the hall. He approached, waving demurely, "How boorish of him, really. He's far too old to behave like this. I'll have a talk with him later, for you, not to worry."

"Not to worry, Antoine. Geoff has every reason to rush, probably a call from the dispatch. I was just on a walk around the palace, clearing my head. I wasn't really paying any attention to where I was going; my fault for not being more vigilant, you see."

"Still!" Antoine scoffed. "Would it kill him to act like a gentleman on occasion?"

"I will chastise him later if it will make you feel better," Sally teased with a bright smile. "Care to walk with me, General?"

Antoine dipped into an elaborate bow with a laughing grin etched on his face. "It would give me great pleasure, Madame." He only stopped short of offering his arm in his teasing chivalry- it was reserved for Bunnie and Bunnie alone. Noting the former King's presence, he called, "Good afternoon, Sire!"

Inwardly, Max noted their silliness, thinking of how the two of them had always been this way with one another. They were a perfect pair, matched in sarcasm and intelligence. He remembered the way he and the deceased General D'Coolette would commentate on the future of their children, always thinking that they would marry. "And a good afternoon to you, General D'Coolette."

With her brightest smile, Sally said to her father, "I'll see you at dinner, Daddy, and for our nightly chess game."

"Yes, and perhaps I shall let you win this time," Max retorted.

Sally gave him the equivalent of a raspberry in her raised eyebrows, turning away confidently with one of her closest friends at her side. She and Antoine headed down the hall, side by side. When the two were safely out of earshot, the coyote leaned slightly toward her.

"He is very lonely, isn't he?" he whispered. Antoine watched the way Sally's lips tightened and knew by her eyes that her thoughts were in turmoil. Of course he was lonely. Licking his lips, Antoine broached the question on everyone's mind, about the royal duty of the newlywed royal couple to provide one vital thing. "Do you think he'll be any better when his heir is born?"

Embarrassed, Sally cleared her throat. "Yes, I think once he's got a grandchild to bounce on his knee, he'll perk up. It's not like… I've tried to set him up with some nurses or paid guests to give him some company, but I quickly stopped doing that. It would be pointless, to do that to his pride. He wouldn't stand it and, besides, he deserves better than that. Do you visit him very often, Antoine?

"You know, not as often as I'd like." Antoine's face scrunched up, constantly expressive. "I know everyone likes to keep his senior years light with games and such, so I try to give him a bit more depth in my visits. You know, for the sake of variety. And actually," Antoine cleared his throat softly and continued, "he's been very good when it comes to advising me upon how to, say, advise the council. I seek his wisdom when he's willing to offer it."

"I assure you, you're not alone in that regard," Sally replied, adding, "but he often tells me that if I'm to be queen, I need to believe in my own wisdom, and I need to make the best decisions that I can. As much good the council has done, I sometimes pine for the old days of Knothole, where community problems could be quickly and painlessly solved."

"Mm," Antoine hummed, thoughtful pursed lips parting to reply, "As much as I understand your frustration – and first hand, even still – I have to disagree with you. But you know my reasons, no need to go into it again."

Both of them sighed simultaneously, remembering their heated debates a few months ago. Antoine, specifically, felt that he had reason to argue given his thorough knowledge of French Mobius' very rocky history based on a few lone rulers' rash decisions.

"You've no argument from me." Sally conceded. "Now my decisions have much deeper repercussions than they used to."

Trying to steer them away from the gloomy topic, Antoine opened his mouth again, about to ask after the heir again only to stop himself. No one in the castle, or even the city, could stop talking about the royal heir to come. Surely, he reasoned with a cautious narrowing of the eyes, she was sick and tired of hearing about it. His green eyes opened wide again, a smile splitting the caution and the gloom away. "Listen, I'm meeting with a few members of the high council in a bit. Are our plans still on for dinner tonight? Bunnie's been looking forward to it."

"I've been greatly looking forward to it, and so has Sonic. Believe me, he'd love nothing more than to get out of the palace," she giggled, taking the conversational mood swing in stride. "Sometimes I think he's so restless that he'd give anything for a bit of action; a few robots that weren't found and dismantled or rebel Legionaires. Not that he'd be allowed to take part in battles anymore, of course…"

Antoine sighed wistfully, "What we all would give! Whenever I talk about my fencing – never mind the fact that everyone scoffs at me for not having a firearm – they all suggest I join a tournament, like some has-been!" With that, he shook his head and dismissed it. He looks at Sally's face, framed by her lovely auburn hair, and gave her his usual delicate wave. "Until this evening, mon amie. Au'voir."

"Until tonight, Antoine." She nodded, feeling the weight of her crown, and watched him depart. She glanced up into the sky from the castle window, and gazed indirectly at the bright sunlight.

The sun was but a red dot in the orange sky, a short distance from the horizon that evening when the royal couple arrived, politely giving the front bell a ring. Try as they might (and always did), they could not persuade the secret service, little more than a group of guards carrying the name of St. John's old troop, to leave them be for a few hours with old friends. To their mutual relief, Sonic and Sally managed at least to convince them to stand outside the D'Coolette's front door while they met their friends inside. Sonic rubbed at the back of his neck as if working out a knot.

"Any night I don't have to wear that crown is a good one, Sal," he said, smirking at his wife.

"Where did you think that old saying comes from?" She smirked back, and they shared a laughing glance though neither was in the mood to give sound to it. Their gazes slid sideways to their personal guards, standing statuesque at either side of the door. Bunnie's footsteps came within earshot as she raced to get the door, only to be stopped by her servant.

A muffled, friendly argument sounded from behind the door and Sonic quirked an eyebrow at his wife. Inside, they heard Bunnie remark, "Aw, shugah, c'mon! It's jus' Sally-girl an' shugah-hog!"

"Please, ma'am, it's my job – you'll have all evening with them, I swear."

"Jessie, shugah," Sonic and Sally gave each other pitying smiles in Jessie's regard. Bunnie's voice had taken on that voluptuously cross tone that only she could manage. "If you don' take th' night off Imma fire you."

Sonic snickered and from inside, Antoine soothed, "Oh, Bunnie, leave her alone. I told her to get the door."

There was a harrumph from Bunnie. "Fine, shugah. Let 'em all in."

Jessie was wrapping up a relieved sigh when the door swung open before the royal couple. Bunnie beamed with her signature bright-eyed smile. "Hey, y'all! What took you so long?" She paused, noticing the guards decorating her doorway like gargoyles. Her smile faltered a moment but did not disappear. "Oh, I see. The stooges kept ya."

"Oh," said Sally, throwing the back of her hand to her forehead, going on melodramatically. "Some horrid cutpurse might accost us on the streets of our own city; I may be kidnapped and put in some terrible tower somewhere."

Both girls burst out giggling, much to the chagrin of the guards outside. They were only doing their jobs!

"Heaven forbid." Sonic added, stepping inside after Sally. He threw his hand out toward Antoine, smirking at his old friend and rival, "Nice to see ya, Ant. Doin' well?"

Antoine gripped the offered hand, grateful Sonic remembered to give him his left hand. He allowed his dominant hand to offer up a deceptively powerful squeeze. "About as well as you are, I'd imagine," he chuckled darkly, "did you see the others behind you?"

"Yeah," Sonic answered, falling back into old speaking habits around friends. But it was clear from his rigid stature that that the 'etiquette witches', as he referred to them, had left their mark. "We passed Tails on the way here. He should be here in a bit. He had an errand or two to run before he could join us, but he told us to g'on ahead of him."

Meanwhile, Sally embraced her old friend, relishing in what her formal life made a rare occurrence. "Nice to have a night to ourselves… are we the first to arrive?"

"Sho' are, Sally-girl," Bunnie replied, giving her dearest friend a squeeze in return. As Antoine and Sonic continued their chat in the other room, Bunnie leaned in close to whisper to Sally, "Ah'm so glad yo heah. Ah cain't take this quiet no more, shugah."

"Trust me; I know what it's like to live in a museum." Sally nodded almost too empathetically.

"Darn right," Sonic remarked, suddenly come back into the room. He gave an extravagant roll of the eyes. "Speaking as someone who married into this kind of lifestyle, I envy the middle and lower classes."

Bunnie glanced between Sonic and Sally, confused and incomprehensibly hurt. She could've sworn he was out of earshot. She sighed, not entirely sure she should be serious with Sally. Or ever, for that matter; after all, Sally spent so much time being serious at the castle, she only ever wanted to goof around and blow off steam when she was with Bunnie. Meanwhile, Bunnie pissed away all of her free time, waiting for something serious to happen. Mercifully, the doorbell rang.

Relieved, Bunnie raced to the door to greet her next guest. When the door flew open, Hershey was revealed, holding a small bag. Bunnie's face lit up again, "Hey, Shugah! C'mon in."

"My mom made some of those toffees you like so much, and I thought they might be nice later," Hershey replied, offering the bag.

Bunnie took it gladly, a hungry little spark igniting in her eyes. "Absolutely, Shugah! How thoughtful."

"Hello, Hershey!" Sally greeted, giving a small wave. Sonic didn't bother going that far, and simply grinned at her.

But they went ignored, as nothing had changed between them. Instead, Hershey said to the man of the house, "So Ant, who else is comin' to this snoozefest?"

"Excuse me?" Antoine fired back, pretending to be offended.

"I haven't seen that ol' cap'n o' mine in ages. Wonder if the poor sap's worked himself to death yet." Hershey laughed.

"And you've simply forgotten about Wombat, I take it?" The coyote prodded, all in good fun, leading the group of them into the salon.

"Please!" Hershey laughed and shook her head. "I wish I could forget him for even a moment. I love the little guy, but he's constantly underfoot, y'know?"

"Sounds like a certain council member, hn?" Antoine elbowed Sally, who let out a laugh of complete agreement.

"You're terrible!" she giggled.

Sonic sighed, watching the conversation but not really participating. He felt exhausted from all the fuss made over every little thing. People idolized him when he was simply their 'hero', and in his youth he had let all that go to his head. But now, as King, he was fussed over and hounded and pointed out wherever he went. It was fame that came with expectations, expectations that were new and tiring. His ears pricked when he heard a weak squeak from behind the front door, and he turned his head. It sounded like someone was scared out of their wits, like the guards were antagonizing whoever was approaching the residence. Bunnie broke her attention from the conversation as well, irritation blanketing her face.

"If they musclin' Tails aroun', I'm a muscle they bodies inter different shapes like balloon animals!" She seethed, muttering mostly to herself. Sonic held back a smile and Antoine spun around, away from his guests, and took her by the arm.

"Cherie –bien aimée- I'm sure he's fine. Let me check, hn?" He said, failing to restrain her.

But a growl from behind the door stopped the little group with a sharp, drill sergeant yell. Soon after, Geoffrey let himself and Tails in. To the not-quite-kit and not-quite-fox, he grunted, "Don't let 'im get t'ya, mate. They buncha pussies, really. If they were on my team they wouldna lasted two seconds."

"Y-yeah," Tails swallowed. "It's just the, um, position they hold, ya know? If I fought back or something or said something, I could be thrown in jail… or something."

Geoffrey regarded the kit. He was growing into a handsome young man, and a careless one at that, with his wrinkled shirt and uncombed hair. He looked like he'd rushed right out of bed. But in Geoffrey's eyes, Tails would never be much more than some kid. He snorted. Turning to the group he said, "Aw, damn, am I tha' late?"

"Yeah, I finally beat you for once!" Hershey said, approaching the man before throwing out her hand like an expectant pimp. "Pay up."

"Not on yer ass!" He laughed, and went to grab her and mess up her hair only for her to barely skip out of the way. He let out a belly laugh. "Heh, glad to see y'still got a li'l trainin' in ya. Sonic, Sally, long time no see. Ant, Bunnie, what's 'appenin'?"

Antoine shook his head, perpetually flushed when Geoffrey came around. "A few years ago, I'd be scolding Sonic for the things you say and do in my home! And with ladies present, really, Geoffrey."

"I'm sorry, Ant, really," Geoff chuckled, holding up his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. Antoine took obvious note of this in raised eyebrows. Geoff explained, "I jus' got off. Guess m'nerves are still kin'a… inhibitive."

"Well," Sonic went in to break the tension. He offered Geoff a smile. "It's nice to see ya, Stripes."

Then the king turned his attention on Tails, who'd calmed himself down a good bit since entering the D'Coolette residence. "Hey, big guy, nice to see you back from the island. Y'see that Knucklehead a lot?"

"No, he's way too busy. Apparently, as Guardian, he has a lot of things to do even in peace time." Tails beamed, offering up a fist bump to his surrogate older brother. The action seemed silly after his time on the throne, but Sonic complied. He put his arms around the kit's shoulders and gave him a little shake, grinning from ear to ear to see Tails again.

"You're sorely missed at the palace, Geoffrey," Sally imparted on the former soldier. "For all the differences we may have had in the past, you're worth twenty of our so-called 'secret service' out there. They're efficient, but hardly hold a candle to anyone on your old team."

Sonic could only smirk at what Sally was saying with utmost sincerity. If the SS were good, the Freedom Fighters were better.

"Aw, no don' go startin' all that again, I kin see tha' look!" Geoff snarled playfully, pointing at Sonic only to notice the tremors in his hands hadn't quit. He shoved them into his armpits, muttering, "aw, hell…" Sonic quirked a playful eyebrow at the skunk, ignoring the shakes the other seemed to have trouble contending with. Geoff smirked back, saying, "What I'd give just to rough you up a bit like we usedt. To rough it up with anyone, now, eh?"

"You and your damn fights!" Hershey remarked, shoving Geoff's shoulder. "When are you gonna learn to sit still?"

"You need maturity before you can have a maturity level, I suppose." Antoine rolled his eyes.

Hershey laughed and Geoff protested, "Well, if I'm late, who could possibly be behind me?"

"Like that makes it better!" Hershey laughed and Geoff went on, unaffected.

"Whatta we eatin' anyhow?"

"Yes," Sally broke in, turning attention on Ant. "You were quite secretive about that detail when we talked at that council meeting earlier today."

To the inquiring gazes of his closest friends, Antoine could only rub his fingertips together, the ends of his ears touching in a Wile E. Coyote grin. He let out the softest, most chilling chuckle possible for him. "Yes," he snickered, "and for good reason, too."

"It did take an awrful long time," Bunnie added, and Antoine strung an arm about her waist, "an' it's kin'a a special thing ter prepare, so we thought we'd leave y'all in suspense."

"Suspense makes everything taste better, I think." Antoine said, and shared a conspiratorial look with his wife.

"Naw. Hunger makes everythin' taste betta, but really, suspense 'll 'ventually give way t'unga." Geoff corrected.

Antoine eyed him playfully; still not giving in to the hungry looks in his friends' eyes'. "Jessie?" He called instead, "is the table ready?"

"Yessir. I was just about to ring the bell," she calmly replied.

"Excellent." The coyote smiled at her direction before turning to face his friends. Bunnie giggled at his side. "Please, everyone, be our guests."

With that, everyone was led into the dining room.


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, this may seem a bit medieval, but I thought it was special. You don't see it anymore, anyway," Said Antoine, as he circled to sit at the head of the dining room table, relinquishing King Sonic of his superior role for just a bit. Jessie and Léon then carefully lowered a covered silver platter onto the table. Everyone quickly took their seats, eager to see their mystery meal uncovered. Jessie revealed the evening's entrée with an elegant flourish. Before them was a mouthwateringly supple suckling pig.

Tails instantly felt his mouth water, staring at the delectable pig, eagerly awaiting the cornucopia of flavors the sight promised. Similarly, all of Sonic's ettiquet dropped like a sack of stones when he gazed at the marvelous, not to mention pretty, feast. "Holy crap!"

"Why, Antoine," Sally smiled darkly, "you should have invited councilor Hamlin to this feast."

Antoine burst out laughing, sounding eerily like the late general. Geoff and Hersh did a double-take of their friend, thinking the same thing. Antoine wiped at his eye and replied, "If only I could! Oh, what I would give…"

"Y'all help yerselves, an' eat up! Jessie, Léon, shugahs, take a seat. There's room." Bunnie grinned, happily observing her guests' anticipation.

"Bunnie," Antoine said slowly, in the tone of one repeating a lecture for the hundredth time. Bunnie's smile fell, and her eyes narrowed, not looking at him. "I don't know if you'll ever understand this distinction…"

"'Twan," She snapped, head swiveling to stare him down stern, firmly. "They hongry. Ah ain't gonna say no more."

With that, she turned away and Antoine sat, dissatisfied. Léon and Jessie exchanged a glance and Léon hesitated, then spoke. "Monseigneur?"

"Sit!" Antoine barked. Sonic jumped and he looked to Bunnie. She knew Antoine's tone was meant for her, that Léon was only foolish enough to speak next. The two servants immediately joined them at the table.

The table went silent and Sally looked to Sonic for a hint as to how to solve things, but he could only give her his bewildered expression. She sighed inaudibly, too used to this confusion of his. She looked at the dinner laid out before them and then looked to Bunnie, who looked unhappy. She smiled, ready to steer this mood elsewhere. "Really, Bunnie, this looks almost like too much trouble for all of us. I know things have changed, but we're still the same people who were living in shoddy huts just ten years ago."

Bunnie pursed her lips; she had the time to do all this cooking, so why not do it? Tails immediately took note of her soured reaction and mistakenly took it as a sign that Bunnie thought Sally was being ungrateful.

"Hey, it's way better than eating whatever would catch or grow out in the woods," Tails chuckled, a little forced. "Sorry, Sally, but I like the convenience of city life."

Totally oblivious to the others' efforts of cheering up the mood, Sonic threw in, "Boy, were you spoiled up there on the island or what?"

"Let's just say I've spread my wings up there," Tails smirked. "Some of the kids are wild when school lets out."

Geoffrey let out a low chuckle. "Pfft! How wild do a buncha kids get? 'Oh man,'" and he switched to his best imitation of a surfer teen, "'I totally got buzzed this weekend!' O' 'I totally saw tits this weekend!' Oh m'god, kiddies, didn' know those existed. You lot should see the places enlisted men go on leave. Now that's what I call wild."

Oddly, Sally was the one to burst out laughing at that. "Oh God…" she said, trying to breathe, "I remember those years when the boys would sneak around Rose…"

"Whatever," Tails grumbled, flushed, thinking that they were all being condescending at this point. "I've at least got a girlfriend back on the island. More than I can say for you, St. John."

Sonic quirked an eyebrow at the kit's use of Geoff's last name, like he was so big and strong compared to the older, and far larger skunk.

Of course, Geoff could only laugh right at him. "Whatever! Y'virginity counts against y'in this battle, 'love.'"

And with that, he flicked the kit's ear, an ear practically as red as Tails' cheeks. The kit grit his teeth at this only for Sonic to flick the other ear. Tails' his head flew around to give Sonic a dark look. "Hey!"

"Behave," Sonic remarked. He glanced at Geoff and then back to Tails. He gave him a wink, "At least at the dinner table."

Understandly, Sally was afraid that this was how he'd teach their children their manners.

Hershey swatted at Geoff, trying to contain her laughter and aware of Tails' obvious irritation. "Don't say that! Jesus. Is that how you talk to your patients?"

Geoff gave her a bemused look, "M'patients don't say much – I work in trauma, I think you f'get."

"Oy." Hershey sighed.

"So d'you, basically," Geoff laughed again, entirely too amused in antagonizing his friends.

She shook her head at him. "And yet, for some reason, it's so different on my end of the spectrum."

Geoff sighed, looking first to Sonic and then to Hershey. His eyes were on her, but it was obvious the words were directed at the hedgehog giving Tails a friendly scolding. "When y'gonna let the kit fight his own battles, anyhow?"

"When there's a big slice of sweet ham on my plate to keep me occupied," Sonic replied, taking a chunk of the newly-carved pig for himself.

Sally just looked at him, at a loss for words. Instead, she turned to Léon and Jessie, the D'Coolette's OL servants. "I don't think we've talked much. Are you two enjoying your time away from French Mobius?"

Léon was sweating bullets, stiff as a board, looking miserable. Jessie, though not exactly at ease, was fairly comfortable speaking with the Queen. "Well," she replied coolly, "I'm not from French Mobius, but it's still taken some adapting. All in all, we're happy here."

Sally nodded, but didn't continue the conversation. Everyone had been served at that point, and she decided it best to leave them to their meals and partake in her own. Hershey chewed a piece of her relatively small portion, never having had much of an appetite, and she stared at Geoff. When he finally felt her eyes on him, he found her admonishing him with a look he couldn't read. His eyebrows knit, and the skunk asked of the slender cat, "What?"

Her almond shaped eyes crinkled at the corners with her smile. "You never change."

"Tha' good thing?" Geoff threw back.

She considered, pursing her lips in thought, and then smirked, her sharp cat canine glimmering. "I think so."

Geoff grinned back. "Glad t'hear it."

"So your work on the squad gets y'a bit shook up?" She asked.

"Yeah," he sighed and tugged at his ear, thinking. "I mean, not all the time. Tonight was just – hm." He shook his head and looked her in the eyes, changing the subject. "But how's the shelter anyhow? And Amy, if she's still there."

She smiled casually at the thought. "About as good as a shelter gets, y'know; got a new grant comin' in, which should pay for some new dorms for more residents. Amy's been beatin' the tar out of all my old mats and dummies. Healthy as a horse!"

Sonic's ears perked at the mention of the girl, he had totally forgotten about his old admirer in the hustle and bustle of royal life. He didn't say anything, just took another bite of his meal, already on seconds.

"I can only imagine," Geoff murmured, "that she's hard to rein in sometimes?"

"She gets… excited, sometimes, yes. But hey, I kept you in line, didn't I?" Hershey teased.

Antoine laughed out loud and Geoff flushed from his collarbone to his ears. Hershey waved it off.

"Aw, don't get all bent outta shape. What are the other guys on the squad like? Any girls?" Hershey went right back to talking about him.

"Actually… no. All guys."

"I don't believe you!" Hershey retorted, scandalized.

"It just so happens the trauma team is all men! What's wrong with that?"

"I smell a conspiracy!" She replied, pretending to be suspicious. "I bet you guys pitched the one woman on the squad right out of the ambulance while nobody was looking!"

"Listen," said Geoff, nervously pulling at his ear again, with force, "we got some great nurses…"

"Pfft! Because women can only be nurses!" Hershey said, as if indignant.

"Quit putting words in my mouth!" Geoff retorted, totally buying it. "You know that's not what I mean."

"I should join just to whip your asses." Hershey pouted.

"Let Amy do all the hard work. Then enjoy the rewards," Geoff offered jokingly.

Sally leaned on her elbow on the table, observing with amusement. She glanced at Bunnie, "I don't know about you, but I'm enjoying the show! How about this? Two adults," she smirked, slyly addressing Geoffrey and Hershey, who both turned their heads to look at her, unsure where she was going with this, "Arguing like schoolyard lovers on the playground."

Both of the former SS members looked at her with mouths agape and eyes a-glare.

"Lovers?" Hershey spat.

"Pfft!" Geoffrey snorted.

"I know!" Hershey agreed.

"Really…" Geoffrey sulked.

Tails snickered and Sonic gave his wife a look, disbelieving that she'd instigate this. He threw Antoine a look, pointing out Sally with his fork, "And to think… tonight, I'm the mature one between us! What crazy parallel universe have we stepped into?"

Antoine replied by raising his eyebrows at Sally, just to make her giggle. Her laugh only made Geoffrey's already rosy flush redden. He glanced at Hershey and caught her looking, they nearly glared at each other, eyes accusing the other of looking when they shouldn't be, but weren't they both equally guilty? They settled with staring mutually at their food, and Sally giggled again. Neither of them had eaten much, and with the awkwardness Sally stirred, they decided now was an excellent time to pick away at their meals. A quiet settled over the table for a little bit. In the quiet that followed, Sally nudged Sonic and motioned to Jessie and Léon sitting apart from the group, reminding him wordlessly to thank them for their service. They casually complimented Bunnie on the meal, and Jessie and Léon by extension. This was standard for them, a beautiful meal and compliments to the chef and servers. Tails, however, would later over-thank the dinner crew, so used to stuffing his gullet with junk that the home cooking made his eyes tear in genuine and pure happiness.

When the meal was nearly finished, Sonic took up his napkin and wiped his mouth. He took a sip of his drink and decided to speak, finally making conversation himself. "I heard through Sally that the rumors of completely dismantling the military were nothing but. I'm glad, really, there's a lot of tradition involved in it. I should know," he frowned, "I had a lot to learn from all those traditions when I was crowned…"

Antoine paused in his meal, and shot Sally a look, a bit incredulous. He used his napkin and replied, watching Sally in case he started to say something that he shouldn't. "I… wasn't aware that the dismantling had been halted."

"Erm, yes," Sally replied and cleared her throat. She was happy for conversation, of course, but was slightly embarrassed with the topic Sonic had selected. He still needed some work, it seemed. "Well, I think he's referring to what my father was going to do after the Great War, completely dismantle the military in its entirety and relieve every soldier. A lot of people were expecting us to do the same thing after Robotnik was killed, I think."

Antoine, unsure of how to reply, looked down at the hands he'd rested in his lap. They were cold and blue from his poor circulation. Of course, when he was angry, the vessels further constricted so his circulation only got worse. To say the least, he wished the military would be entirely dismantled. Bunnie sensed his displeasure, knowing how he felt about the subject. She glanced at the clock. Relieving the table from this vein of conversation, she asked, "Anybody want some dessert? Ah made some cobbler and key lime pah!"

"Yes, please!" Tails chirped, looking like a small child on Christmas morning at the thought of homemade desserts alone. Geoffrey, however, glanced stiffly at his pager, damning it silently for not beeping the one time he wanted and needed it to. He looked back up at the group, sighing heavily. He saw no point in these get-togethers, the forced emotions and the walking on eggshells over every little thing. Really, why did he go anymore? He glanced at Hershey, and thought to himself that if she stopped going, he'd have absolutely no more reasons to attend.

"Y-yes, please," Sally replied, nervous from discussing the military. She cleared her throat, smiled, and tried again, in a confidant tone, "Some cobbler would be nice."

"Key Lime pie sounds good. All of it sounds great, Bunnie," Tails added, dreamy-eyed still.

Sonic pursed his lips, trying to swallow the embarrassment for dragging them all into another awkward subject. He knew Sally was embarrassed by him when he'd tried to take her hand and she nudged him away. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his hands fidgety. "I'm sorry, Ant, I thought… well, wrong, I guess."

Antoine sighed, regretting being so easily read earlier and looked another way, unsure what to say.

"You really don't know how to drop a subject, do you?" Geoff dead-panned and Sonic's stomach felt heavy, soured.

"Shugah, that's enough." Bunnie cut in.

Geoff looked at Hershey. He wasn't surprised to see that she wasn't giving him unanimous support, but he was relieved to see that familiar, empathetic glint in her eyes. "Anyway," Geoff said, looking away from Hershey and towards the group. He rose from the table. "Maybe I oughta go. I'm not really one for sweets. I'm sure they great, Bunnie, but -"

"Ah understand, Shugah." Bunnie stood to give him a friendly hug goodnight. "Y'all git some sleep fer once, y'hear?"

"Yes'm," Geoff chuckled. He made his way for the door, resisting the urge to look back at Hershey again. However, once outside, he instantly regretted it. "See you lot 'round!"

Sally internally thanked Geoff for his departure, giving them all a chance to change the subject. Still not looking at Sonic, she said, "Doesn't take a moment's rest, almost robotic. I don't know how he was able to do it as head of the service."

Hershey recognized her cue to carry on the conversation, but passed it up. She sighed and considered heading out not too, but her sweet tooth outweighed that urge and so she stayed seated and allowed Bunnie to serve her a little of each desert.

Sonic politely accepted a piece of pie, but his guilt had robbed him of his appetite. He knew he'd screwed up, but he wasn't going to further the mess by not eating.

Beside him, Sally addressed the man Sonic couldn't look at, and he noted her smiling tone. "Antoine, you said that you had been suggested to participate in fencing competitions. I was wondering, since you dislike the idea as much as you do, have you ever thought of becoming an instructor, like Amy has with her self-defense class?"

"And be more of an old man?" The coyote replied dryly. "No, I thought I would save those for my ch- for my old age."

"Oh, Shugah, it cain't be that bad." Bunnie sighed.

"Besides, who wants to know how to fence anymore?" Antoine pushed through, essentially blowing her off, mashing the pie with the back of his fork. "All anybody wants now are laser pistols for the firing range. I mean –aha- who can compete with that?"

"If I may, Monseigneur," Léon said quietly. Antoine nodded. "You might go where tradition is valued more highly?" He suggested.

To this, Antoine stared in disbelief at Léon. "You aren't suggesting Mercia, I hope."

"No, no, Monseigneur," Léon shook his head profusely. "But most of European Mobius is still very much entranced with the sword. Especially the gentry."

With a roll of his eyes, Antoine sighed, "But I'm at a loss even there! What's fashionable is the foil. My expertise lies in the sabre…"

"It couldn't hurt to learn a new art, then, could it…?" Léon nervously suggested.

"I suppose not," Antoine muttered.

"You could give it a try, 'Twan," Bunnie said, reinserting herself into this topic. She chuckled lightly. "You might even lose, just imagine that. Since he came of age, he's never lost a duel, mah 'Twan."

And Sally smiled, as Antoine had revealed he'd been considering this, at least on face value. "Trust me, Antoine," she said affectionately to her friend, "life hardly ends at thirty."

"Who's turning thirty?" Antoine said, just short of huffing. He was so lost. When did this evening go sour? He stood up from the table. "Please, excuse me. I'll be back in a moment."

Once again, a quiet settled over the remainder of the group. Hershey swallowed the last bite of her desert and considered the kit who'd just finished his desert as well, looking so satisfied he seemed ready to fall asleep right there at the table. She smiled, ignored the morose royal couple, and addressed the kit, "So Tails, y'said y'gotta girlfriend? She pretty?"

The kid perked right up, causing Hershey to snicker to herself. His face split into a wide grin and he dug into his pocket, fishing out a wallet from which he extracted a photograph. "Yeah," he sighed dreamily. "Here, take a look."

It was a faded photograph, clearly battered and well-loved, of Tails standing with the biggest, goofiest grin stitched into his face with a sweet little thing, an otter with sunset orange fur, hugging him from the side. They were set against a horizon decorated by bumper-cars and a rollercoaster, a carnival date perfect for high school romance. Tails explained warmly, "That's Pamela. I met her last year.

Hershey's smirk became a fully bemused smile. She handed it back between two fingers. He accepted it and as he tucked it away, Hershey thought back to Sally's comment about her and Geoff. How simple things were when love was uncomplicated and childlike! But she was very much against the idea of her Geoff having just a simple childhood love connection. It wasn't so easy.

"Ah, puppy love," she purred, looking between Sonic and Sally and then at the kit on cloud nine. She looked off into space, and Geoffrey filled her thoughts. "People tell me it's nice."


	3. Chapter 3

The capitol's halls were practically empty, save the occasional official casually going about his business. Hershey managed to blend in pretty well with her old Secret Service swagger despite her street clothes. "Hey Rote," she called ahead, to the form of a familiar walrus. "I didn't wanna embarrass you in the lab, but you look like you lost weight!"

He turned with a mellow smile, patting he stomach where he stood. "I haven't noticed myself. Unless, of course, you're fishing for a favor?" He chuckled, expecting the affirmative.

Hershey smiled sweetly. "I suppose you could call it that."

"Well, I know you love me for my body, but I'm not that easy, you know!" And with that, the two laughed. "Well, a man can dream. What did you have in mind, Hersh?"

"See, the guys an' I have kinda drifted since the SS was disbanded. I been tryin' to come up with something to bring us back, but all I could think of was our team. That's when it hit me- o' course, we couldn't bring Valdez back, but there's no sayin' we couldn't have Bomb and Heavy. I got the back-up motherboards if you an' your guys can work with 'em. I mean, I know how much work goes into this shit. If you're busy, that's okay. Some other time," she added, flashing a reassuring smile.

"So that's where their back-ups went to. Here I was, thinking that when they were rebuilt last time, we never put a back-up in. It would take some time, but as head of research and development I have the authority to have them rebuilt. It's just a matter of doing it quietly." A certain jollyness brought color to his face. "I'm sure I could assign a few trustworthy men and women to help with their reconstruction. It would mean I would have time to work on bringing someone else back."

"Someone... someone else?" Hershey squinted hard in thought.

Rotor's face darkened. "In the final year of the war, we had to shelve Nicole due to a virus Robotnik released. I had to put her into a slow, and I mean _slow_, reformat to ease her into recovery. I then placed her in storage so she could adjust. I could have brought her back out of stasis some time ago, but I had the impression that putting her back in that hand-held computer was a little... insulting, especially after being free to go anywhere as a hologram."

"So, Nicole's gettin' her mobian form back?"

Rotor nodded. "And I managed to find some nanites after we purged them from the city. I've been growing them for that very purpose- that being, that Nicole will be able to simulate a body of her own. No holograms. One giant leap towards becoming truly 'alive'!"

"Holy shit! That's incredible. I didn't even realize that was possible." But before she could go on, the two passed by a door that stood barely open. The former King Max could be heard booming from inside.

"Three years, and you expect me to believe you two have been too busy to find time to indulge?"

Sally's voice was mortified. "Daddy, it's not- I mean, we have- a lot."

"Trust me, we've become very familiar with the act," Sonic mused wryly, unphased by his father-in-law's rage.

"And for three years, you've lain it up to chance?" The old king thundered on, "You should have informed Quack after the first year!"

Rotor stood stock still, suggesting in his expression that they shouldn't be listening. That tuxedo cat looked back with mischievously glittering eyes.

They knew Max was about to speak again when they heard the leather of his wheelchair creak. "I'm not trying to place blame on either of you. These things happen occasionally. But you know damned well what is expected of you two. In these three years, you should have had three children, each a healthy future successor to the throne."

"I know, Daddy. And we've tried, it's just embarrassing to schedule a fertility test with the man who gave me my first vaccinations."

"I understand your frustration, Sally," he offered calmly, trying to maintain a measure of politeness under the circumstances. "But this is something you two should have nipped in the bud ages ago. Now, people have had the chance to get suspicious."

The thrill of juicy gossip gave Hershey the look of an enamored tot. She bounced on the balls of her feet, begging Rotor with her yes for one more minute. The poor walrus was horrified by the topic, shaking his head like a tired teenager who was dealing with a sugared up six year old.

Sonic cleared his throat softly. "I think part of it's also knowing if just one of us is to blame."

Sally scratched her forearm. "I know from Bunnie that in some noble families, it's not uncommon for... such abnormalities. Is it the same with-"

"Absolutely not!" Max exploded. "Our family has never, ever indulged in that old practice to secure power! Wipe that idea out of your mind this instant!"

The king and queen were silent, understandably shocked to see the aged king unleash such vocal might. Before anything more could be heard, Hershey dragged Rotor further down the hallway. By the time she dared open her mouth, her voice was breathy and disbelieving. "She totally just sold out her friends' impotency; you _know_ there's more where that came from."

Rotor was a little flushed. "Yeah, a regular reality show. But that's Sonic and Sally in there, and a conversation like that should be private." He looked over to the door. "I feel bad. I can't do nothin' for them, not even ask."

"That's not entirely true," the cat all but sang, leaning against the wall. "All we gotta do is pull some strings..."

Rotor cocked an eyebrow. "I assume you've got a plan forming in that twisted mind of yours?"

"Say this information fell into Quack's hands- or better yet, a fertility specialist's."

"Anonymously, of course?"

"Of course," she purred. "I know this great specialist. She actually helped us out on this mission where- well, long story short, paternity was very important, and data very scarce. Come to think of it, the two of them might be more comfortable with a woman. First thing's first, we'll talk Quack into needlin' 'em for check-ups. He'll quickly realize the problem with our prodding. He'll contact the expert I'll provide, who'll contact the royals. Bearing Quack's name, she'll come into open arms."

"Yes," He says hesitantly, admitting that there was some logic in her plan. "Yes, you're right. Sally trusts Quack, and she'll go to him if he's the one to call first. I sense this is something you have experience with, as in, say, with a certain former captain?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Hey, we didn't do any o' that sleepin' with teammates bullshit. What kinda girl do you think I am?"

"Not the fertility stuff, you crazy cat!" He laughed softly. "Your manipulatory skills. Your ol' captain was legendary in the strategy department, among other things. His work hour record still stands, y'know."

Hershey laughed as loud as she dared with the door just barely open as it was. "He's setting a new one on the paramedic squad, y'know. Youngest guy ridin', and he might make an internship under Quack if he can pass his bar exam this semester. By which I mean to say, the other guys on the squad hate his life."

Max roared back to life down the hallway, loud enough for the two eavesdroppers to hear him distinctly. "Please! I know you two were having 'fun' well before your wedding day!"

Rotor's eyes clamped shut. "Entirely too much information."

"This is just too much," Hershey chuckled, watching the walrus with a bare-faced grin. "Listen, Rote, I gotta get back to the shelter 'fore somebody burns the place down. But keep me posted on the Heavy thing, 'kay? I'll work my magic this evening."

"Sure thing. Just try to have those memory units back here as soon as you can. I have to see what OS they run on, what kind of jack, and so on."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll buzz Wombat. His lazy ass could use some exercise. He'll show up around dinnertime."

"Good, then I should have something presentable in less than a month. Or maybe even a week."

They said their goodbyes briefly, Rotor off to his office in the R&D department, Hershey to her Shelter for the Battered and the Displaced on the lower east side.

She stretched once the door clicked shut behind her. She opened a set of blinds to let a little sunlight into the cool, dark foyer. Another door led her to the main hallway. In their small gym, she knew she'd find Amy, doubtless beating the shit out of someone or something.

"Hey," Hershey yelled. "Who's your poor victim today?"

"Nobody!" The pink hedgehog cried, sitting on the bench by the far wall, a moist towel coiled up and hung over her shoulders. She sat in a white tank top, sweat pants, and a pair of socks, a sweating can of soda in her hand. "Had two girls in here, getting damn good at my classes. Won't be able to teach them much more, I think."

Hershey leaned against the doorframe, the room rank with sweat. "Yeah? Well then, other than training, what's up?"

"About the same. Wombat got his half of the rent up last night. Must be busting his ass. Never thought he'd do that since I started letting him crash at my apartment." She downs the rest of her soda and crushes the can with both hands.

"He ever tell you how he came up with the money?"

Amy sighed, sensing where the conversation was headed, but sticking her neck out anyway. "He told me that he was working at a factory downtown. I can't say I really believe him, but it's that much more that I don't have to pester him for. D'you know?"

"I thought he was working as a mailman. I mean, it's possible he's been doing two jobs. It's just, uh, kind of a jump from the whole lotta nothin' he was doin' when he crashed with me."

"Maybe he's really busting his ass. I hope he keeps it up. You're not bullshitting me about the whole mailman thing, are you? I know you guys like your secrets."

Hershey scratched her forehead. "Why're you makin' this so heavy, man? I don't lie about Wombat and his shit. You know that, 'specially not to you. Can I- can I ask you somethin'?"

"Anything," Amy softened.

"So... you and Wombat, you guys are toleratin' each other right now at late. You, uh- you got plans for 'im?"

Amy stuttered before she found her voice. "I laid the law down that if he wanted to stay with me, he'd get a job and pay his half of the rent. I was expecting to just throw him out at the end of the month, y'know. But he found a way to pay me, and he can be surprisingly sweet. If he keeps it up, I may start talkin' to 'im about makin' some plans."

Hershey nodded. Her eyes were elsewhere, her fingers running absently through her hair. It was getting long for the first time in years. "Yeah, I, uh, I just wondered. Didn't mean to make things awkward for ya, I just figured you'd tell me. And you did." She sighed. "I'm rambling. I oughta go."

"Wait a second, there. Everythin' okay, Hersh?"

"Yeah, well enough. Although, it's been buggin' me- you've noticed, I bet- that I've been kinda obsessed recently. Not just recently- ugh, I don't make any sense!" She let the crown of her head tilt back until it rest against the wall. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before going on. "I been thinkin' about Geoff since the SS split. And y'know, I don't wanna say I took care o' the guy- like his mom or somethin', ew, god- but in a way, I guess I did. I find myself wonderin' a lot if he found somebody else to take care of 'im. An' if he didn't, I'm kinda worried that he'll just run 'imself into the ground.

"But how do you tell that to an old teammate? On a team like ours, you don't. You don't talk about that stuff. He always made that clear."

"But that team doesn't exist anymore, Hersh. You shouldn't have to follow those old rules o' his."

"Y'know, technically, that makes perfect sense. But it's like code. We respect each other by not talkin' about that stuff. 'Cause believe it or not, guys like Wombat and Geoff are fragile. They need that security blanket so you can't see all their little cracks and breakages."

"Trust me, I see it in Wombat all the time." Amy frowned, looking sternly at her friend and boss. "But if you don't take the chance, you'll be circling like a plane that's waiting its turn to come down. Take too much time and you're gonna run outta fuel."

"I dunno, man. I always felt like I was just his dyke friend."

"Hey, don't put yourself down like that! It takes a lot to run a place like this and help people the way you do. If you start thinkin' like that, you can just kiss Geoff goodbye.

"Now, I'm not tellin' you to throw yourself at 'im, but find a way to tell 'im how you feel. I don't really know him, but you do, and you're damned smart."

Hershey thought for a long moment before standing. "Y'know, you might be right, though. Maybe Geoff's no good for me. It's gonna take a bit for this thing to die though. Still, thanks for this, y'know? Just do me a favor- take a shower 'fore you go sex up my old roommate."


	4. Chapter 4

At first, it seemed like a quiet day at the shelter. Hershey got all the way to midmorning without any fighting, sobbing, or visits from protesters against housing pregnant teens. But then, around 10 o'clock, Tanya, a 17-year disowned after her boyfriend knocked her up, went into labor on the maternity floor. Her labor screams pierced the entire complex.

Hershey marched past Amy, grimacing, cell phone in hand. She waved to the pink hedgehog as she dialed. "Yeah, we need a bus over here- somebody's water broke. Yeah, we can bring her to the front door. I'll have her set up in a wheeler. Right. Thanks." She snapped the phone shut in annoyance. "Aw, f'cryin' out loud- can't we have one quiet day in a week?"

"Sorry, Hersh, that's what you get in these kinds o' places!" Amy was coaxing the mother-to-be slowly but surely towards the door. "Hold on, hon, everything's gonna be fine."

Hershey had neither the disposition nor the knack for comforting others in quite the way Amy did. Instead, she ran for the wheelchair and held the elevator. While Tanya rested safely at the front door, Hershey scanned over the medics spilling from the ambulance. She did a double-take when she saw Geoffrey. "You're joking."

He and the other medics lifted Tanya onto the stretcher. He winked at Hershey over his shoulder. "Wish I were, mate. Er- ma'am? Please, I'm gonna need that hand f'later."

Amy pried Tanya's deathgrip open for him. "O' course."

"Ah, thanks, love. Ma'am, you'd make a hell of an arm wrestler, lemme tell ya."

"Hey, St. John," the squad captain shouted, "give the schmoozin' a rest."

"I'm only-"

"Sit this one out. The bus is packed as it is. Hey, Bruce, let's get the hell out, huh? She's about to blow." Bruce, already in the driver's seat, puts the car in drive. The doors slam shut before the ambulance screeches away.

Geoff stood there for a long moment with a blank face. "Assholes. This is the third time they done this t'me this week."

"Aw, what do you mean, Geoff? Ya been snubbed like the ugly girl at the dance?" Amy snickered.

"More like the fat guy with the bad hygiene." He practically wilted. "It's the damn tail, I just know it."

Hershey seized it unexpectedly and yanked it across like a banner. "Well, just look at it! You could make a whole coat outta the damn thing. And this," she flicked a long bang out of his face, cracking a smile. "Aren't you supposed to cut this crap for med work?"

"They wanted me to, an' I almo's got outta it. But they finally caught up to me. I'm gettin' an eraser cut tomorrow." Geoff dropped what looked like a white briefcase on the ground. He rubbed his right wrist sorely. "Wish they at least took 'is shit with 'em."

"What shit?"

"Med supplies," he grunted.

Hershey instantly perked up. "I assume if they left you with 'em they aren't that important."

"We got a whole storeroom full o' 'em. We go through a couple a week; dunno why we got so many."

"So, you'd be willing to give one up for a price?"

Geoff snorted. "No."

"C'mon, man! I can always use extra supplies. Besides, I try to order the stuff from commercial outlets and they charge me twice as much because we aren't a med unit."

"I told ya we got storerooms o' the shit," Geoff laughed. "I don't need yer money. Just take the damned thing."

Amy grinned, eagerly taking up the white kit. "You're a saint, Geoff. Damn- this thing really is heavy..."

"You wan' me carry it in for you, _ma'am_?"

"N-no way! An' don't call me "ma'am." I'm no dainty flower!" With that, Amy scurried inside with the med kit, leaving them alone for an instant.

Hershey cleared her throat, each looking in the opposite direction. "Thanks, man."

"It's nothin'. I know you're runnin' this thing on a tight budget."

"Y'sure you don't want anything for it?"

"Positive," he grunted, giving her shoulder a brief shake. "I better take off for the hospital, anyhow. Otherwise, I'll get shit if I'm late for the next call."

"Ha- better book it, buddy. Y'already been here for a good five or ten."

"Yeah," he called as he started jogging off, "I'll see ya round!"

"See ya!" She watched him for a little bit, hands on her hips. She couldn't help but smile when she saw him looking back every now and again, when he thought she couldn't see.

Amy poked her head back out the door, the bells mounted on it giving her away. "Enjoying the day or the view, Hersh?"

Her boss spun around guiltily. "C'mon, I was just seein' the bastard off."

"I know, nothin' to be ashamed of. C'mon, I'll make us some coffee. Let's enjoy the five minutes o' quiet after soemthing like this happens."

"More like five seconds," Hershey muttered, making them both chuckle. "In the meantime, anything new with you an' Wombat?"

"Well, we did get to talking the night before. He seemed to like the idea of maybe gettin' serious with me."

"Oh, yeah?"

Amy put a fresh pot on in the little staff break room, then took a seat at the table with the cat. "Yeah. Hope you don't see this as me tryin' to steal a brother away from you. I could really fall for the guy if he eases up a little."

"Eh, he goes through phases. First, denial. Then, he lays it on thick. Then he gets scared. That's usually when he loses 'em," she said matter-of-factly, cheek resting against her fist.

"I guess we're in stage two then," Amy frowned. "In the next stage I'll have to coddle him, I guess. I hate having to do that after I cracked the whip on the whole job thing."

Geoff caught up to the guys back in the hospital wing about fifteen minutes later. They gave him a hard time for it initially, but the rest of the rides went almost well. Then around 8pm, he clocked out.

_Okay_, he figured, _If I get home now, I can shower and grab somp'in' t'eat before class. _But while he waited at the bus stop, he saw a dumpy-lookking, rat-faced man plodding towards the capitol. His gut instantly started bitching. _There's no way he belongs in there._

His shower and dinner already forgotten, he tailed at a distance. The pot-bellied badger appeared to be middle-aged, and had the bedraggled, unkempt way about him. Geoff studied his clothes carefully- perhaps an amateur reporter of some kind. The badger was jittery as if he had forgotten about some kind of medication he was supposed to be on.

When he arrived at the capitol, the badger flashed a press pass at the guards, who begrudgingly let him pass. Geoff figured he must have some reputation in this district.

"Yeah, that's right. You better let me in," the badger grumbled, intentionally loud enough to be heard.

Geoff paused to chat with the guards once he turned a corner. He kept his voice low. "Hey, Gordy. Who's tha' punk?"

The guard in question, a large silverback gorilla, went to protect the gate out of reflex. He quickly relaxed upon recognizing the skunk. "Ugh, Cap'n- glad to see you, sir." He glanced over his shoulder. "A malcontent of monumental proportions, sir."

"So 'is fool comes here often."

Gordy snorted. "Yeah, 'bout once a week, treats everyone who checks him at the door like the enemy, and touts his right to go in as a member of the press like he can walk into the R&D and take whatever he wants. He's tried a few times from what I hear, sir."

"He's got some serious balls then." Geoff wiggled an eyebrow, the thought of a chase intriguing after months of routine. "So, thanks, Gordy, mate. You never saw me." He flipped a five-mobium coin into the guard's hand before breaking into a silent run after the badger.

The guard pocketed the coin with a wink at the passing skunk. Sure it was just five bucks, but he would have let the former captain inside for nothing. The guard had always looked up to St. John.

Geoff could just make out the badger swaggering at the end of the hall, seeming more at ease. It was like he was in the halls of his own mansion. He nearly barrelled over a secretary, a short, barely-there mink with a full load of paperwork. Poor thing seemed more than a bit flustered. The badger hurried down the hall and disappeared around a corner without so much as a backward glance.

Luckily, the badger was pudgy and rather noisy as he bustled about; he was easy for trained sniper to tail. Geoff watched him slip into one of the offices, his tail disppearing just before shutting the door. The former captain could hear him setting the deadbolt.

Geoff crept up to the door. He slid down along the wall and perked his ear towards the space at the bottom of the door. Much better acoustics than a keyhole. He searched on his belt for a little recorder meant to take deathbed statements and held it just under the door, still hidden in its shadow.

There was the sound of rusty filing cabinet doors sliding open and closed, as well as dry wood scraping together- desk drawers, most likely. Followed by the rustling of paper and some mumbling as the intruder read to himself. Geoff leaned in as far as he dared. _Wait- I know they're obliged to let the press in, but since when can they read confidential documents? _

He stood and assumed an important position. He knocked on the door authoritatively, dropping his voice a little deeper. "Excuse me? Everytin' alright in there?" At the last second, he remembered the recorder, flicking it back out and under his foot.

The man inside sounded surprised, as if he'd nearly choked on his tongue. All sound went dead in the office for a minute. "Every'tin's alright. Now buzz off, I'm busy."

"Might I help you, sir?" He chirped like he heard some of Antoine's aides do. "You certainly sound occupied."

The sound of office drawers and cabinet files came and went briefly as both were shut. All went silent.

"Now, sir, there's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm a royal aide, sir. I've been instructed that all visitors ought to be accompanied for their benefit, sir."

Now caught, the man inside drummed his fingers on the desk. He quietly folded a few papers and slipped them under his foot, inside his shoe, before opening the door. His eyes narrowed when he spied who it was. "An ambulance jockey? Shouldn't you be helping somebody who's having a baby or a heart attack?"

"We can double-task, sir. My last shift ended just shortly ago. Now, sir, where would you care to go?"

The badger frowned, clearly not liking any sort of escort. He quickly sized the skunk up, deciding that he looked especially nosy. He ought to know. "The council chambers, if any of them are still there. I have some questions."

Geoff bowed his head briefly, folding his hands in front of him. "I'm very sorry, sir, but the council's disbanded for the day. It might be wise to return another day if that's your main objective. Would you like to schedule an appointment?"

The man smiled. "Yes, tell them a humble reporter wishes to see them bright and early. Don't say who, otherwise they may decline immediately. I prefer some anonymity in my interviews."

"But sir," he reached out with his arms as if distraught, "I'm afraid I can't make anonymous appointments, sir, for security reasons. Isn't there a name, a number, that you wish you leave? You must understand that the royal family only wishes for the protection of all working within the capitol's walls."

The badger huffed, clearly not buying it. "Do it or not, I'll be here first thing in the morning." He walked swiftly away from the skunk, some of his hostility exposed in his bared teeth.

"Sir, please understand!" Geoff waited for the fat bastard to turn a corner. He then quickly dialed security about a questionable personage in the records room- anonymously, of course. He then raced home. Maybe he could still wash his face and grab a bite before class if he really hustled.

Unbeknownst to Geoff, the guards hardly needed a reason to jump the nosy reporter. They get one of his shoes off, but the smell caused them to hesitate on the second. After some browbeating about freedom of speech, trumped up claims persuaded the guards to ignore the other shoe. However, they found a pen from one of the offices, emblazoned with the name of the record keeper it belonged to. It was enough of a reason to throw him out, but hardly enough to charge him with theft. The guards took great joy in throwing his own shoe at him.

The badger snarled at his treatment, then retreated back to his apartment, pleased to get his shoe off and read the rest of his stolen wares. The discomfort he suffered from the paper under his foot was made all the more painful by his failure. The sweat from his sock had made the document almost completely unreadable. He nearly tossed it out when he read the still legible heading, "Proposition 9 for the disposal of all weaponry in the boundaries of Neo Mobotropolis and surrounding areas."

The next morning, Geoff came storming into Quack's office, already booted out of the bus by his own squad. He farily roared as he opened the door, shaking a little yellow slip in his fist. "What's the meanin' o' this, Doc?"

The good doctor put down the paper he'd been working on, shuffling it into his desk before giving Geoff his full attention. "You've worked over the limit I can allow as a member of my staff. I have complete say in the matter... although, typically, I only have to give such orders to actual doctors who lose track of time in here." The duck's eyes were bloodshot; he himself had clearly not left the hospital in some time.

Geoff's rage quickly gave way to exasperation. He approached the desk more beseechingly than demandingly. "C'mon, Doc, I still got night school to think about. How the hell am I gonna pay off this semester?"

"You've also got a track record of over-exertion and-" the doctor yawned behind his wing, "-slight OCD tendencies. I can't let you have more time. Until then, you're on vacation. Just not paid vacation. We're tight enough as we are."

"I- Quack- you're even worse than me!" He sighed, the childish desire to throw a tantrum building in his chest. The muscles in his forearms and abdomen tensed as he let out a long breath. "Fine. I'll find something else."

"Wait." The old duck's legs wobbled as he stood. "Geoff, I know you're a med student, which says something. I could do something, but I think you'd just see this as charity. I know your type."

"That y'do. But I'm gettin' older, Quack. Gimme a try."

"If I weren't so tired, I'd challenge that remark. How long have we known each other, Geoffrey? Ten, twelve years?"

"I should think so."

"Yeah, so I know you won't accept this as a gift. So I'll make it a loan, no, more of a bet. I'll let you have half of one week of my paycheck, no interest. You won't have to pay me back, even."

"But?"

"If you bail on your med studies, or try to become a resident at any hospital other than mine, I'll want it back ten fold."

"I never give up on my work," Geoff growled, only to stop himself. He took several deep breaths before looking Quack in the eye again. "How much is the half?"

Quack leaned forward with a cocky smile on his bill. "Enough for several books, believe me. New books."

"Pfft, like I'd piss away any money- easy or no- on new books. You wanna take this sucker's bet?"

"M'boy," he said, taking Geoff's hand, "I'm hoping it is."

Geoff gave the old doctor a firm one-two shake, letting a grin overcome his features. When he stepped back, he wanted the good doctor to see the promise in his face. "Thanks, Doc. I'll be seein' ya when this probation is over. And don't think it'll change nothin'. I'll be back workin' like I always do."

"I'd hope so. Otherwise, you'll be paying me back for a long time, Geoff." He chuckled darkly at the idea, causing a nervous drop of sweat to run down Geoff's back. The skunk beat a hasty retreat. Although it was never said, he knew he could never mention this to anyone. The other guys on the squad hated him enough as it was- they already called him "wonder boy" and "super medic." If they knew Quack had helped him out, paramedic work would quickly become impossible.

When the door shut, Quack smiled to himself. He knew he didn't have many years left in his hands, and that Geoff would easily be able to fit the bill once he had some experience under his belt. He pulled the paper out of his desk again and looked it over. "Oh, boy. I could turn this into the police for meddling in royal affairs." He pondered it, alreayd guessing who may have left it on his desk. The puddy tat had left similar notes on his desk when Geoff needed a leave of absence slip. Same handwriting, too. He made a note to call the royals later and fact-check the note. Sally would never hide anything from him, after all. Heading over to the sofa in his office, he laid down. His age settled around him heavily as he fell into the peace of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Quack led his colleague along the corridors of the palace, directing her to the royal medical chambers. A former fortress during the war, it was fully equipped to handle refugees, although it was currently being used to offer the royal family more privacy. The last thing they wanted was the press trying to get a picture of either sovereign in a hospital gown.

Dr. Regina Fuerta asked, "So, Quack, what am I to expect of these two?"

Her senior had been quiet most of the trip, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter. "Embarrassment, though I imagine you see a lot of that in your field. So long as Maximilian isn't there, I don't expect a lot of shouting. I think- in fact, I know- that they'll blame themselves and not each other should anything come back negative."

"Doctor, forgive me, but..." she cleared her throat softly, "Is there any chance that this might be more comfortable for the patients if you weren't present?"

"Understand I've known our new queen since she was born; I've been her doctor for just as long. I can make them stay if one of them is tempted to leave."

"Doctor, I mean no offense. You clearly know the subjects better. It's ultimately your decision."

"Don't worry, Dr. Fuerta. I won't step on your feet. I'll just be there to listen, to ensure that they hear you out." He held the door for the younger rabbit, closing the door gently behind them. The royal couple sat deeper within the pristine white room, which smelled slightly of disinfectant.

"Hello," Dr. Fuerta offered cheerfully. Her voice was pleasant and mild, with a bounce more personable than found in most doctors. She nodded thankfully to Quack. "It's a pleasure to make your majesties' acquaintance."

In the background, Dr. Quack took a seat by the door. The young king mumbled his hello. Sally gave a slight nod of her head. "Yes, and we both are glad to meet you."

"Yes... um..." Sonic scratched the back of his hand, barely able to face Dr. Fuerta. "Sorry, Doc, we're just... unaccustomed to seeing other doctors."

"I completely understand." She gestured to a white curtain to her left, behind which was an examining table. "Would either of you prefer more privacy, or would you be more comfortable if I question you as you are? Or, if you're up to it, we could start with the physical exams."

Dr. Quack smiled wryly to himself, watching Sonic's face fall at the mention of said exams. Sally piped up again, "I'm sure there are no surprises here. But I think we should start with the questions, if you please."

"Absolutely." Dr. Fuerta pulled up a chair near the young queen, producing a pencil and a sheet of questions. She began with questions as topical as the menstrual cycle, gradually moving towards more involved questions, pertaining to basal body temperature, history of immune system weakness, and frequency of intercourse. She paused every now and again to allow the young queen time to compose herself.

Sally frequently squeezed her husband's hand for support. Her answers were quick and forthright, and her desire to be done with the interview very obvious. She was perfectly healthy according to Dr. Fuerta's questions, the puzzle being that she and her husband had an active sex life. Sonic gulped air as the questions began to roll his way. His answers came at a painful speed, requiring the coaxing of his queen at every turn. He had no erectile problems, no groin injuries, no real health issues whatsoever.

Scratching down a few more notes, Regina sighed. She finally laid them down in her lap without looking up at the royal couple. Hopefully, she figured, she could spare them as much embarrassment as possible. "Would either of you prefer to go first for the physical examination?"

The king frowned. Sally rose to her feet, pulling him with her. "Sonic, it'll only take a second."

"I know, it's just..."

"Just do it, okay? We're not having this physical for kinks."

His brow furrowed, looking about ready to chastise her when he saw the look on her face. It wasn't a commanding frown but a pleading pout. "Fine. Just... let's pretend this never happened, 'kay?"

The old duck in the back of the room could barely hold it in, pretending to look out the window and hide a grin. Sonic could be the biggest baby at times. He remembered how bad it was just to give the hedgehog a shot!

Sally turned to the rabbit. "I'm sorry for all of this- it's just that, when you're of the royal family, this sort of thing is especially painful. If there's a problem, we'll be reminded of it constantly."

"Your highness, I can assure you that all information you divulge in me will be treated with the utmost sensitivity. This way, please?" She turned to the king, handing him a clear vial, nodding towards the bathroom to her right. "In the meantime, sire, could you fill this, please?"

Sonic gulped loud enough that Quack could clearly hear it. "Well... okay..." The old doctor too pity on him, taking a seat out in the hallway to offer him more privacy.

Dr. Fuerta knew that this exam would be agonizing for the young queen. She palpated her abdomen, finding no tumors, swollen ovaries, or foreign bodies. She then readied a tiny camera attached to a monitor by a thin wire. This was inserted vaginally, allowing the doctor to examine the cervix and uterus for signs of HPV, chlamydia, and other STDs.

After a few moments, the doctor stopped, intently studying the monitor as it displayed the inner walls of the queen's uterus. "Your majesty, have you ingested much smog in your lifetime?"

"Yes, I was the head of the resistance."

"I see. Your highness, can you see that tiny black speck in the upper right hand corner of the screen?"

Sally turned her head, a slight tremble in her voice. "Yes."

"Not to worry, Madam. That speck is supposed to be much larger, and is actually the connection between the fallopian tubes and the uterus. You see, smog, and the various chemical components and particulates that it contains, tend to constrict important vessels in the body. It is my early hypothesis that your exposure to smog has caused your fallopian tubes to shrivel dramatically, to the point where the egg can no longer travel into the uterus. It's possible that your husband's vas deferens is constricted in the same way."

Sally stared at the screen, letting her head fall against the table with an almost comic thump. "Is such a thing common enough to make that an accurate guess?"

"Recently, your highness, it has become very common as the Robotnik war generation comes to childbearing age. Especially, although of course not exclusively, to overlanders."

"Bastard!" The queen's face hovered on the rim of rage and sadness. "Even in defeat he's robbed us. Is there some treat- drugs or otherwise? Assuming that this is indeed the problem, I mean."

"Indeed, Madam. I'm afraid drugs have only been successful of cleansing the body of toxins in recent exposures- as in 6 months or less. There is a surgery being performed in which sections of the large intestine are used to replace the fallopian tubes, but I'm afraid it's not effective, nor is it very safe. There are too many instances of extra-uterine pregnancies, which often claim the lives of both mother and child. In the instance of your importance, I would warn you heavily against it."

A growing, heavy breathing could be heard from the small bathroom not too far away, increasing until it was hard not to notice. It then suddenly stopped, following by a quieted, barely controlled heaving and the sound of a belt being buckled. The queen closed her eyes, embarrassment rising in her cheeks. It was a sound she had only ever heard in the privacy of her bedroom. "That is... um, unfortunate. Just a second, please." She covered her face.

Sonic poked his hand through the curtain, and in it was the corked vial. He made sure not to peek. "Here, Doctor."

"Thank you, sire. I'll be with you momentarily. Now, not to worry, your highness," she said, turning back to the queen, "you've been excellent throughout this exam. I know it isn't easy for you."

"It... is not your fault. We have been meaning to ask someone, but the subject is never easy to bring up. Please, make your tests and get back to us when you're certain.

Regina frowned, the bitter taste of failure in her mouth. She carefully freed Sally of the equipment, popped the recording from the monitor, and gave her some privacy to right herself before reappearing again on the other side of the curtain.

Quack had reappeared in the examination room by the time Regina and Sally passed through the curtain. Sonic blurted out, without looking at anyone, "Doc, how long do these tests normally take?"

"F-forgive me, sire," Dr. Fuerta began, "I'm not usually so slow in my examinations. I-if it would suit you better, your physical exam c-could be rescheduled."

The king blinked with confusion. "No, no, no, I'm not talking about this physical. I mean the lab tests. How long would we have to wait for the lab boys at the hospital?"

Dr. Quack cleared his throat, speaking up. "This would be a priority case, I would have the results back to Dr. Fuerta in a matter of days."

The room stood tense and quiet for a long few minutes. Regina straightened her back and took a deep breath before attempted to saw through the awkwardness. "Alright, sire. You're almost done. Follow me, please."

The king hesitated when she held the curtain for him. He felt like his shoes were filled with lead, like the ones he'd had to wear in his etiquette training. The old witches had become... inventive with him. He snorted before heading inside, wanting to get it all over with as soon as possible.

Sally watched the rabbit's face for the brief instant before she fell behind the curtain. She couldn't help but admire, or even envy, her calm in the face of their bluster.

On the other side of the curtain, Dr. Fuerta quickly but thoroughly examined the king's genitalia. As expected, she found extreme constriction of the vas deferens, along with some shriveling of the testes. She suspected that his sperm count would come back abysmally low.

The two reappeared much sooner due to the superficial nature of the male exam. The young doctor waited for the royal couple to reunite and get as comfortable as possible before she addressed them. "Your majesties, I strongly believe that your reproductive facilities have become severely impaired due to longterm exposure to smog. As of yet, the damage is not reversible in any safe, efficient way."

"Are there no options beyond adoption, Doctor?" The queen asked anxiously. "You realize... that would not be acceptable."

"Your majesties, your respective gametes should remain perfectly intact, if my hypothesis is correct. Therefore, I would suggest an in-vitro fertilization. If the queen tests positive for smog poisoning, I would suggest a highly reliable, confidential surrogate. As, of course, smog poisoning will kill an embryo even before the placenta is fully formed."

The queen put on a strong face, tilting her chin up against the young doctor. "I understand. This will be something we will have to discuss. We will see you again when the results come in." Her resolve faltered for a second. She then abruptly stood and bowed. Her husband followed, taking her hand and offering her a smile.

"Madam, Sire, thank you for your time. I'll see you again soon, to your grave disappointment, I know." Regina bowed deeply, chuckling despite her own misgivings. She then turned and left the room.

That night, Sally's trusted personal aide, Sebastian, approached her at the dinner table. He placed a gentle, withered hand on the queen's shoulder. "Madam? A call for you from Madame D'Coolette."

"Yes? Oh, yes." She took the phone, nodding her thanks to Sebastian. In her present funk, however, it seemed more a mark of dismissal than one of thanks. "Bunnie?

Sebastian nodded and bowed out respectfully before Bunnie could respond. She began tentatively, searching with invisible feelers through the phone. "Sally-girl? Y'all right?"

"Yes." She looks over her shoulder before whispering, "Well... no."

"Aw, spill those beans, shugah. You know y'all kin tell ol' Bunnie anythang."

"Bunnie, Sonic and I... we had a visit from Dr. Quack. He brought this other doctor, Dr. Fuerta with him." She slogged through her words, her voice breaking. The topic was not only difficult for her, as the mention of this problem had become taboo in regards to Bunnie and Antoine.

A note of panic had slipped into Bunnie's voice, fearing the worst. "An'- an' what'd she come 'long fo', shugah? Ever'thang- ah man- y'all sick, shugah?"

"No, Bunnie, calm down- please. She didn't just come to see me. Sonic and I, we're having... problems. The kind- the same kind you and Antoine are."

Bunnie's lip trembled on the other side. Her voice broke even as she tried to contain it. "Oh- oh, Sally-girl, Ah'm so sorry. Ah'm so sorry, Sally-girl. But... it ain't so bad, is it? You'll come through like awways?" She tried hard to swallow and chuckled sadly.

Little did Sally know, Antoine had long since stood from the dinner table to approach his wife. He knew upon hearing that tremor that children must be the subject of conversation. His face turned away to offer what privacy he could, he rubbed her tense flesh shoulder from behind.

Sally broke down. Tears ran down her cheeks, her voice cracking, coming out in unintelligible squeaks. She cleared her throat, sucking in air through a runny nose. "I know, I know. It's just that... Daddy's been badgering us for weeks now about it, an' I dunno what to tell him."

"Oh, Sally-girl, Ah know, Ah know. It ain't easy, sho' 'nough. Ah s'pose y'all kin on'y tell 'im the truth, raht? Y'gotta git it out, Sally-girl. Y'all feel betta once y'git it out. Ah could go with you to tell 'im if it'd make ya feel betta, shugah."

She took a breath, trying to center herself. It was like a dam had burst when she admitted it to Bunnie, and saying it had cemented the idea into reality. "Thanks, Bunnie, but no. He would only see it as me blabbing royal issues to people outside who don't need to know. But really, thanks for offering, Bunnie. Thank you, thank you..."

Bunnie held the phone away when she started to cry openly. Antoine didn't ask, he just offered her a hankie and cradled her against his chest. Soon, Bunnie replaced the phone at her long ear. "Shugah, y'all know you kin call me anytahm, mornin', noon, night, Ah don' give a damn. Ah'm heah fo' you, Sally-girl, y'hear?"

"We don't have the tests yet, but things... don't look good. For me or for Sonic. I'd like to meet with you after we do, because if things don't turn out well, I'll need your huge shoulder to cry on."

Bunnie snorted because of her newly-congested nose, which made Antoine smile. "Shugah, y'all best call me as soon as you know. Ah'll come runnin'. Should Ah brang shugah-'twan 'long fo' shugah-hog?"

"Are you sure he'd be comfortable advising Sonic on this? I mean, I know how bad it was for you both when they told you."

"Sally-girl," she paused, looking her husband in the eye, "Ah thank that if it comes down to it, shugah-'twan'll sympathize wit shugah-hog, an' it'll change ever'thang. We feel yo' pain, Sally-girl. But hey, these rough tahms ah already brangin' us all closer together, raht?"

"Just like they always did. Dr. Quack's doing our tests as a priority, so at least it won't be a long wait."

"Ain't no trouble at all, shugah. Y'all git some sleep. You'll feel betta in the mornin', it'll be a bran' new day, an' you'll still have good ol' Bunnie an' 'Twan an' shugah-hog behin' you. Love you, Sally-girl, you know that."

"Love you, too, Bunnie. Always." She unceremoniously hung up the phone, letting her hand linger on the device before taking in a long breath. She left for the bedroom, where Sally was already sitting on their massive bed. Silence prevailed. They looked to each other sadly as Sally sat on the opposite side of the bed. Sonic switched off the light. In the darkness they laid together, holding each other tightly as they both let out their pain in the privacy of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

The centerline was, essentially, prime New Mobo real estate. The main street was wide, paved with white stones, and carpeted on both sides with sprawling lawns and the most magnificent private gardens in the city. One of the more downplayed royal carriages pulls up to one of these houses, with a leisurely driveway pulling through the artisan wrought-iron gate, towards a carriage house as large as the average citizen's home.

While also their dear friends' property, the D'Coolette estate was a renowned arena for entertainment with an incredible atmosphere of hospitality. As soon as the royal carriage doors opened, a pair of navy blue liveried porters approached to escort the royal couple inside. Although they thought it strange to take them in through the back, the porters questioned nothing. They remained respectfully silent as they granted their master's wish- to give the royal couple as much privacy from public and private prying eyes as possible.

Jessie, the D'Coolettes' black overlander (or OL) cook, opened the back door in her cream-colored uniform. She was the only servant Sally had ever known to speak personably, probably because she was such good friends with her mistress. Jessie smiled sympathetically, taking control of the escort from the silent porters. "If your majesties would please follow me, your hosts are expecting you in the parlor."

Antoine and Bunnie rose immediately upon seeing their guests. They looked questioningly, afraid to physically form the words pounding in the eerily quiet room. "Sally-girl?" Bunnie whispered hesitantly, wringing her mismatched hands. "Sally-girl, just let it out."

Sonic and Sally had walked the entire distance from the carriage with the same look of a funerary march on both of their faces. They held hands tightly as they tried to comfort each other, growing more melancholy as the attempt failed. Sally perked up a little to see Bunnie, releasing her husband's hand to walk slowly towards her dear friend. She looked about ready to crack, like a levy that was about to burst. She ultimately wrapped her arms around her friend, burying her head in the rabbit's shoulder.

It was obvious that Sonic felt a little abandoned. Trying to hold it all in, he nodded his hello to Antoine. "It... came back just as we feared..."

While Bunnie cradled the queen and cried with her, Antoine looked at his old friend with a painful mixture of empathy and pity. He gestured for the king to take a seat. "I'm so sorry, my friend. Trust me when I say I know how you feel." He looked towards Jessie in the background, then glanced at Sonic. "Do you desire anything before I send her away?"

Sonic looked to Sally, still hiding her face in Bunnie's shoulder. He politely shook his head as he took a seat. "No, thank you. We're not going to want anything." Antoine took note of Sonic speaking for his wife. It wasn't something he was disposed to do, but he supposed that it was necessary for the moment.

With red cheeks and the slightest touch of a wrinkle starting to show, Sally resurfaced. She looked more like the girl they knew in Knothole, the ground squirrel who helped them pick a harvest every year, than the prim and proper queen seen on television and in the newspapers. Their host sighed and dismissed Jessie with a wave, who bowed her head and disappeared.

Bunnie rubbed her old friend's back, wiping a pool of runny mascara from her lower eyelid. "Ah-Ah'm so sorry, shugah..."

Sally took a clean, pressed hankie from inside her overcoat, lightly dabbing at her face. With each wipe, a few more tears and a little more makeup stained the pure white cloth. "Thank you, Bunnie. I just- seeing you and knowing I could unload like that..."

"I had hoped you would never share in our predicament," Antoine offered, his head in his hands.

Sonic took the freedom of being in a friend's house to do the exact opposite of what he had been forced to practice the past few years; he leaned on the table with his elbows. "When you two went through this, I always wished there was more we could do for you. Now I think we understand each other all too well."

"Unfortunately." Their host forced himself to sit up, rigidly rolling his shoulders, exhaling heavily. "You had mentioned that Max was actively on your case, yes?"

"Yes, and he's the one that suggested this. Probably the one who got on Quack's case, for all I know."

"Well, you're not alone in that, either. I've got a tick, so my sources tell me. Do you mind if I smoke?" Antoine asked offhandedly, producing his usual pipe.

"Go ahead."

Without a word or a gesture, a porter appeared, light the pipe that Antoine held aloft, and disappeared. Antoine took a puff or two before glancing sharply at Sonic. "You know my head man, Xavier, yes?"

Sonic raised an eyebrow, curious as to how this was relevant to the conversation. "Yes, I've met him several times when we've come to visit."

For a moment, Antoine stalled, sucking nervously on the end of his pipe before blowing a bluish ring away from the company. "He has informed me of some trouble other heads of my family have been making. There are four other patriarchs in the D'Coolette house, really. But my father's property in French Mobius is the most valuable, and each patriarch wants it for his own heir."

Their wives were still getting settled. Bunnie tried to help the puffy-eyed queen take a seat without making her look like a child. "Thank you, Bunnie, I can make it." Sally was more grateful for Antoine's distraction, even if they were of his own woes.

Sonic sighed. "Noble houses. And I assume there's some bylaw that they can use to their advantage?"

The coyote nodded slowly, ominously, the smoke coming out his nostrils like cold steam. "The bastards all but made up a law in the attempt to rob me of my ancestral property. I need to have an heir- born, mind you, not just conceived- by the age of 25. Thankfully, I've finally argued myself out of the traditional nonsense where the heir must be a son. Really, what difference does the sex of the first child make?"

"Well, you could always 'donate' the land to the monarchy. I'm sure we could set up a low, low lease contract," the king joked, calmed somewhat by Antoine's rambling on their mutual dilemma.

The joke flew way over the host's head. He scowled at Sonic, even as Bunnie laughed beside him. "Oh, please, shugah-hog. As if the vacation district in southern French Mobo needs any mo' tourist complexes!"

"Damn tourists," Antoine rolled his eyes with a puff on his pipe. He was glad, even despite his sour mood, to make the queen smile at the old gesture. "Damn tourists, always wandering into my vineyards."

For the first time since lighting it, Antoine seemed to really enjoy a puff. "Bunnie's been talking about your visit since she first call you, you know. Ceaselessly, I might add!" He wiggled his eyebrows challengingly at his wife, who shook her head and laughed at him.

"'Twan exaggerates, you know how he is. But Ah'm jes' about to ask Jessie to brang out the tea an' goodies- anybody want anythang?"

"Well, just something small." Sally looked to Sonic, then back to Bunnie. "We haven't really been eating well the past few days."

Sonic nodded slowly. "We don't mean to impose, you understand. But I'm sure you already have something prepared just for us in case we were starving."

"Oh, whah didn't y'all say somethin'!" Bunnie's motherly rage swept up mightily. "Heah Ah was, about to put goodies in yo' bellies, an' y'all haven't even been eatin' proper!" She stormed off towards the kitchen, hollering for Jessie.

Antoine snickered wickedly to himself, packing his pipe again. "Oh, you two. What wonderful color you bring to her face, if only you knew."

A wide smile spread on Sonic's face as he leaned back in his chair. "I have to say, Ant this estate is the most peaceful place in the city. Of course, the company isn't too bad, either." He smiled cockily at Antoine, who froze with his pipe on the way to his mouth.

"Where are my manners? Sonic, I know you don't smoke, but I usually ask. Well, it's late-" he reached over into a beautifully scrolled end table at his right hand, just big enough for a single drawer. From within he produced a lovely pipe, with an ebony bowl and and a gold mouthpiece. "-but still, you're welcome to it if it pleases you."

Sonic took it, regarding it for a moment before holding it out for Antoine to light. "I don't, but what the hell. After all, stuffing myself on chili dogs doesn't do it for me anymore."

"Thank goodness," Sally quipped. "Bunnie has it lucky, Ant. I know you don't like to pig out on onions before bed."

Antoine snickered, dutifully lighting Sonic's pipe before relighting his own. He reclined with a contented puff, crossing his legs. "No one is perfect, Sally. Sonic doesn't really drink. Bunnie's had her share of problems when I didn't know when to stop."

"That's true, but the important thing is that you recognize it." Sally's head snapped in the direction of her husband, pointing at the pipe. "And you'd better not make that a habit."

"Nah, don't worry. I'm just being a good guest." He took a puff, coughing at the foreign experience. "It's not bad, Ant. Something that you'd have to let grow on ya, though."

Their host chuckled. "We're good enough friends that you don't have to if you don't want to, Sonic. Although, it's good of you to try. I remember the first time you walked in here, when it was essentially a smoking salon between myself and four or five heavy smokers."

"Salon? Ant, it was like walking into a smokestack!"

Antoine laughed richly, blowing another ring. "You've yet to visit my father's estate while I'm doing business with family. Or better yet, Bunnie's uncle's property. Oh, goddess, that's a story in and of itself! You've been there, haven't you, Sally? They don't just smoke, like gentlemen, either. They spit! They actually spit! In polite company! And they aim for my good shoes, I tell you."

"I have." Sally smiled, grateful to feel her mascara drying at last. "And yes, they're polite enough, but I'd never want them when we're working as diplomats. I can just imagine the representatives of Downunda pointing to a spittoon and wondering if it was an old chamberpot left out."

Again, the joke went straight over Antoine's head. But at this point, he'd come to accept that Sally's English vocabulary would always be better than his, so he nodded politely until something else was said.

Sonic shook his head. "That's the worst part of the job, if you ask me, having to play host to some of the most irritating, stuck up politicians in the world. Worst of all, they have free reign. Our guards try to keep a close eye on them; sometimes they like to head towards the seedier ends of town for things I shouldn't disclose in polite company."

"Prostitutes, I assume?" Antoine raised his eyebrow in mutual disdain. "Why, this month alone, I've had to dismiss three of my best porters because they directly disobeyed me and brought that trash into my carriage house!"

Sally flinched, making a sour face. "I've seen some similar accounts with the maids at the palace. And I don't blame you for letting them go. You'd think that if they were to do that under their employers' noses, they'd be more covert."

"I was so angry," Antoine continued. "And what's worse? They offered me 'free access' if I'd let them stay! I almost killed them, I swear... wait, it's been a while, hasn't it? I wonder if everything's alright in the kitchen. Bunnie's never this long."

"I'll check on her," Sally offered as she rose. She knew that Antoine was supposed to go, as their host, but she was hardly in the mood for the complications of etiquette.

Sonic watched her leave with a downcast yet somehow grateful look in his eye. "Sally really needed to come here, Ant. And I know I did, too."

Back in the kitchen- the staff kitchen, not the main kitchen- Jessie was busily preparing tea and sweets for later. She uncorked a fresh bottle of red wine, pouring it into a decanter just as Léon tapped her shoulder. The poor cook jumped, almost dropping the entire bottle. Léon, the white overlander butler, just barely caught it, spilling perhaps a pint on the floor. Still, they were relieved that there was no crash. For then the master would be in, investigating.

Jessie breathed a long sigh of relief, which Léon mistook for a show of annoyance until she put a warm hand on his back. "I-I'm so sorry, Jessie. I was only going to ask you where Grégoire and Henri are."

"It's okay," she said softly, brushing a slim braid away from her face. She wore a thick ponytail full of them. "Just wipe up the floor, alright? The master will be wantin' this stuff ready any minute now."

Their mistress could be heard beyond the kitchen door. "Jessie?"

The butler and the cook looked at each other in mild panic. Léon wiped the floor spotless as Jessie set the tray on the counter, her coworker out of sight from the door. Bunnie poked her head in. "Jessie, shugah, Ah'm awful sorry to trouble you."

"No problem at all, ma'am," she said breathily. "What do you need?"

"Y'see, shugah, ow comp'ny hasn't been eatin' well. Y'think you could whip up somethin' a bit mo' fillin'?"

"Should I dispose of the tea and such, then, ma'am?"

"Whah, no, shugah, that's awright. Brang that out fo' 'twan an' me."

Léon's feet gave out from under him on the slippery, newly cleaned floor. He clutched Jessie's leg for support, his thighs burning from his awkward forced squat. The cook looked down at him apologetically as the mistress's attention was redirected.

"Aw, Sally-girl, Ah'll jes' be a minute. Them boys gettin' restless all by they lonesomes?"

Sally shook her head. "Antoine maybe, but I think Sonic could use some time away from me. I've hardly been myself these past few days. But something about just being here with you and Antoine makes me feel like me again."

Léon's legs gave out from under him, only to collapse against Jessie's apron-covered leg. He closed his eyes in denial of how near his face was to her pelvis. Jessie was glad to have such a dark complexion- she could only imagine if this blush showed through! She stuttered, "Ah, your majesty, ma'am, maybe I should make you more comfortable in the family kitchen? It's hardly clean enough to be respectable, and I'd like to apologize."

"Aw, shugah, Ah know. Y'need to git rid of us, don'cha?"

"H-hardly, ma'am, but I do need to finish the new dishes-"

"Say no mo', shugah. Ah'll be back in say, thirty minutes?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" She bowed her head, discreetly swatting Léon off the second the ladies turned their backs.

Sally touched her hostess's shoulder lightly, stopping her. "Bunnie, there's one thing I'd like to say before we rejoin our husbands."

"Shoah, Sally-girl."

"Dr. Fuerta, the expert, she said that the only hope I have is a surrogate. For that first instant, I thought of you before remembering... you know." She squeezed her shoulder gently.

Bunnie was struck. She couldn't understand why Sally would even tell her such a thing. Her tone suggested that it was meant in tenderness, but the reference to the rabbit's infertility seemed to Bunnie a social stab in the back. Bunnie pulled away, her lip trembling. "Whah, shugah, ah- ah dunno what to say. Mebbe we should get back to 'em, huh? Don' want po' 'twan worryin' like he does." She fussed with a loose strand of golden hair, tucking it behind her ear as she retreated towards the men.

"Sorry, that was... silly of me to say."

"Naw, Sally-girl, don't be silly!" Bunnie put on a big smile, half for Sally, half for Antoine. Both husbands glanced at each other. They could tell that something had transpired, but they said nothing. Antoine made room for his wife to curl up beside him, and when she did, he kissed her temple.

"Will Jessie be able to make the alterations?"

"O' course, shugah."

Sally crossed her legs as she perched beside Sonic. "Antoine, I know I don't remember all of your workers, but I'm glad to see you hiring overlanders. I've seen several the past few times we've come here."

"I had some misgivings about hiring them initially," he admitted, his long fingers stroking Bunnie's flesh shoulder from where his arm laid across her back. "But Bunnie convinced me that they had only ever been faithful workers on her family's land."

"An' they had, too. Never had no crop stealin', no 'llicit women, no nothin'. 'Cause see, OLs is treated poorly 'nough. You show 'em a good payin' job an' they gonna do all they can to keep it."

"Come to think of it, I think the OLs are the only workers that I've kept since the start. But, euh, Sally, if you don't mind me asking- why talk about my help? They don't normally seem to... impress you, in any sense of the word.

Sally felt exposed, her attempt to change the subject coming back to hit her in the face. "Oh, nothing, really. It's just that a year ago I hired an OL to work the royal gardens. It was my first scandal as queen, you see. I thought everyone would be over the whole OL thing after the war."

"Some people just can't stop fighting, I guess." Sonic tucked the corner of the pipe in his mouth and wrapped his arm around her, leaning his head against her shoulder. She was clearly uncomfortable.

Antoine looked between Sally and Bunnie as they shrank into their respective husbands. He whispered to Bunnie in French. Given the amount of time she now spent in French Mobius, she was fully capable of responding in kind.

"Did something happen?"

"Darlin', don't bring this up now. Later, okay?"

"Bunnie, this isn't fair to them. Was it that cook again?"

"No, hon, honest. Why you always so critical of that cook, anyway?"

Antoine shook his head. "I'm suspicious. But don't change the subject. You'll tell me before the night is through, hn?"

Léon appeared, looking rather official in his working tux. He stood at attention until all conversations came to a natural end, to avoid interruption. "Monseigneur, dinner is ready at your convenience."

"Thank you, Léon," his master said, in English once again. "We'll take it in the dining room in a minute, hn?"

At that, Sonic tapped his pipe out into the ashtray, the embers quickly dying outside the pipe. The company stood and made their way to the dining room together, pervaded by another uncomfortable silence.

The dining room was an exquisite room all its own, a long room with rounded corners and elaborate plaster moldings. The carpet was a lush indigo, so soft that it sank when walked across. The windows along one side let in gratuitous amounts of sunlight through lace curtains, painting the room in exotic colors as the sun set.

To the royals' shame, however, both had seen so much of the estate that it had lost much of its grandeur. Sally put on a smile, but it wound up looking tired and strained as the help quickly and professionally the table. Notably, they were all men.

"After that suckling pig, I doubt your staff will be able to outdo themselves on such short notice," Sonic challenged, as the waiters poured the wine.

Antoine sighed, as even Bunnie had pulled away from him. He was left with nothing to absently fondle but the tablecloth. "I'm afraid that would be impossible. Oh, I wish you told me you were hungry! It could have been a really grand meal, you know. I've been dying to prepare a goose recently. I've never done it before."

The master of the house grew quiet as the meal was presented. A light bisque soup, garden salad, and a beautiful roast the perfect size for a dinner of four, perfectly simple.

The quiet lingered until Antoine opened his mouth again, after all the help have left. "Really, ladies, this is ridiculous. Did something happen? Did one of my manservants behave poorly towards you?" He sat erect, ready to stand and fire whoever it was on the spot.

Sally felt browbeaten, as if Antoine were her well-meaning father. "No, your staff has only been as generous and polite as they always are." She looked to Sonic for help, but he was as curious as Antoine, and so notably said nothing.

"But Sally, this isn't you. And Bunnie, you haven't stopped talking about this evening all week. Whatever's happened- it doesn't matter if you want to address it now- don't let it spoil this meeting, hn? We're all too busy and our lives are all too short."

"I have to agree," Sonic finally spoke up, to Sally's dismay. "If whatever happened between you two has got you this riled up, then you'll just be kicking yourselves later."

Sally frowned. The only end to this interrogation was clearly to come clean. "Fine. When we were walking back to you two, I felt like telling Bunnie something that occurred to me when I was reduced to relying on a surrogate. I said I wished Bunnie could have been my first choice."

Antoine blinked, understanding both of their pain stemming from this one confession. He watched his wife twiddle her thumbs in her lap, never meeting his eyes. Her voice was nearly inaudible when she breathed, "Ah'm so sorry, Sally-girl. Ah should have- Ah shoulda gotten this taken care of a long, long while ago. Po' 'twan's under so much stress as it is, he don' need all this pressure."

" Bunnie, that's not true-" He reached out to hold her, but she shrank away from him."

"An' now Ah've failed you, too, Sally-girl. Ah'm so sorry. Ah'm so sorry..." She cried like a little girl, her shoulders up to her ears, her teeth sinking into her curling lower lip.

Shame coated Sally's face. She reached across the table, taking her friend's hand. "No, Bunnie, I'm sorry. That was unfair to you."

"All Ah thought about was mahself. Ah wan'ed to stay strong. Ah didn't think about nobody else when Ah chose to stay this way. Quack told me it'd be permanent, but Ah didn't listen. Ah, oh..." She sobbed miserably to herself, trying to stay quiet. Antoine looked like his guts were being torn out of him with a penknife.

"Bunnie, chérie, please, don't cry." He produced a hankie and offered it to her, hopeful that it would make her surface for a second. "We've been over this- it's no one's fault. You heard what Quack said- it was your flesh or your life. It was hardly a vain choice."

Bunnie mopped her face as daintily as her puffy eyes and shaking hands would allow. "Ah'm jus' so sorry fo' the drama. Po' shugah-hog's all pale awready."

"After hearing things like that, Bunnie, I wonder if I should've let Robotnik completely change you." Said Sonic, "You would've been transformed back to normal when we undid all of the robotization."

Dabbing the finer corners of her eyes, Bunnie's voice took on a light, scolding tone. "Now, shugah-hog, don'chu neva blame none o' this on yo'self. 'Sides, Ah neva woulda met none o' y'all if Ah hadn't been partly cognizant, right? An' then what'd it be worth?"

Antoine sighed in relief, bypassing the appetizers to dig actively into the roast and wine. The carnivore in him glittered through his jaws with every bite.

"It just seems like, even though we won," Sonic began, "he's still kicking us in the teeth. Doctors keep finding new things wrong with people that can be traced back to exposure to chemicals he dumped. The environmental department is still scrubbing whole areas he'd taken over."

"Whatever the cause, I know that our families will be close for generations. Even if we have to cheat to make our futures possible." Sally frowned as she patted Bunnie's hand. How smart Elias was to pass the throne onto her!

Antoine couldn't seem to enjoy the meat as much as he thought he would, at least with the topic at present. "At least we aren't reverting to the old methods of family continuity. I mean, I would have had to marry my cousin Jeanine. And she comes from a horrible, vicious side of the family. They'll do anything for money, I swear."

Bunnie laughed sadly for Jeanine's sake. "It's true, y'know. She's a pitiful little thang, fo' all her daddy's money."

"Only Bunnie could find it in her heart to pity her! She's vile. If only her ugliness were only skin deep!"

"Yeesh!" Sonic leaned on his elbows towards Antoine. "Kinda girl you could hang on the roof if one of the gargoyles were broken?"

"Exactly! But even then, it could always be worse. Apparently my grandparents were siblings."

Sonic froze. "What?"

"Oh, Sonic," Sally smirked, enjoying the look of horror on his face. "You've married into the weirdest part of Mobian society."

Their host raised his glass. "A toast, to strange and beloved company, hn?"

A manservant stepped forward cautiously. "Pardon, Monseigneur, but is everything alright?"

"Hm, yes, the meal is fine. But bring more wine and some water, if you will.

The servant nodded. "Should I ask the cook to prepare dessert?"

"Well? Will you do us the pleasure of staying for another course?"

"Why stop a good thing?" Sally answered. Beside her, Sonic raised his glass to second the motion.

Bunnie squealed in delight, briefly clapping her hands. "Oh, Ah'm so glad! Y'all really are a pleasure, shugah- especially compared to the company we've entertained recently, all diplomats and council members and such.

"Which reminds me-" Antoine dismissed his servant with an affirmative nod before locking eyes with Sally. "I want pressure on this one council member in particular. Do you know Brandt Jennings?"

"Not personally. I don't socialize with council members, especially once they've been voted out."

Bunnie rolled her eyes. "Don' listen to 'im anyhow, Sally-girl. He's just gittin' jealous."

"It's not just jealousy!" His anger flared, only for him to pout and look away, one finger circling the rim of his glass. "He treats Bunnie like a concubine whenever he comes here."

"Now, that ain't true, shugah."

Her husband turned on her swiftly and counted off his fingers. "He's grabbed you, pinched you, smacked your behind-"

"Shugah..."

Seeing that he couldn't win with his wife, he crossed his arms and turned to Sally. "He even often her money!"

Sally's face twisted in disgust. "If this was the old power structure, It'd be in my right to have him punished without trial. If we could just suspend the council for one hour!"

"If only he weren't an American. I'd take care of him myself."

Bunnie squeezed one of his overly tense shoulders. "Now, 'Twan, that's takin' thangs a bit far."

"Not in your case, Bunnie."

"Shugah," she drawled purposefully, drawing one finger around his jawline. He eventually turned towards her, his eyes shining affectionately.

"I know, Bunnie, I know." He looked to his guests with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about that. You both understand how I get when it comes to Bunnie."

Sonic nodded, hitting the table as something came to mind. "Actually, speaking of you, Bunnie, Rotor came up from his hidey-hole the other day. He wanted to know how you were doing- well, more specifically, if you needed some work done on your arm and legs. He was the one you always trusted with them, after all."

The servants took this time, when the conversation was less passionate, to bring out the drinks and dessert desired. The peach cobbler was purposely set in front of the queen, her favorite dish. She carved herself a small piece with delight all over her features.

A curious look appeared on Antoine's face at the mention of Rotor. Part of it was joy to hear of a friend, part of it a darker questioning. He was aware of feelings that Rotor harbored towards Bunnie. He couldn't be entirely sure if they actually existed, as Bunnie was right, he did tend to get rather jealous. But if such feelings did exist, could he really trust him, even as a friend, alone with his wife in such a vulnerable position?

"Y'know, shugah, Ah oughta visit him soon. Mah one hip's kinna outta joint. Ah noticed it the other night when-" she flushed, laughing at herself. "Anyhow, Ah could use his help in more ways than one."

"I'm glad to hear that. I mean, he rarely gets much time with people these days. I think having him come all the out out here'd be good for 'im."

Sally took another bite of her cobbler, relishing in its buttery, flaky crust. "Mm, yes. He's been a bit eccentric lately. When we saw him last, he said he had something to show us sometime in the lab. Probably something he's tinkered up."

"Ah kin only imagine, shugah. Got any bets on what it could be this tahm?" She squeezed her husbands knee under the table, as he'd expressed this anxiety before.

"We pressed him, but he kept his muzzle shut. With him, it's hard to say. We've let him have his privacy since his funding was cut; it was the least we could do for him."


	7. Chapter 7

Medical probation was wearing on Geoff's nerves, and it was only the third day. He'd dropped another med kit off at Hershey's "on the house"- he'd find a way to pay for that later- and was trying to figure out the quickest route back to his apartment. Geoff rubbed his hand over his new eraser cut self-consciously, blowing out his lips.

"Used to know the damned routes by heart, 'specially the subway," he grumbled to himself. "But no, they just had to change the lines! Just gotta get to Riverside, upper west. Riverside, upper west..."

He grunted in annoyance to himself just as someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, he faced a man almost his height but as thin as Antoine. The man was that mysterious native mix of the species of Downunda, with mostly dingo features, lynx ears, and a rounded tail. His fur was a tawny brown with flecks of gold on his head, spots of brown dotting his face like freckles. Clearly an immigrant by his worn appearance, lost expression, and vague sense of anxiety. "I'm sorry," the man said gruffly, in a heavy accent. "but I'm looking for someone- a brother, really. You're the first striped skunk I've seen in years. Do you know any others?"

Even though he spoke slowly, the man would have been very hard for a non-native to understand. Geoff regarded the man suspiciously. "Sorry, mate. Only myself as far as I can say."

The man sighed heavily, shaking his head. His words were hopeless, almost involuntary. "I'm looking for a little brother. If you should see another skunk..." He searched for something to say, but he had nothing to give, no telephone number, no forwarding address.

Geoff's craggy, old heart went out to the immigrant; he remembered being in his shoes. He squeezed the other man's shoulder lightly, encouraging eye contact. "Listen, mate, I can't help you with yer brother, but I know some people who can. Take the green line to Forest and West End," He said, pressing a five-mobium coin into the stranger's hand. "You'll find the information center for missin' persons."

"You have blue eyes."

Geoff turned half-away, suspicious. "Yeah."

"Please, wait. Please like you, the striped ones, they never have blue eyes."

"Listen, mate," Geoff commanded, starting to think the stranger was a nut. "We're at a bloody train station. If you try something funny, your ass'll get arrested long before you can take off."

The stranger took the note blankly, not taking his eyes off St. John. "What's your name?"

"Geoffrey, okay? Now, you got five seconds 'fore I start causing a scene."

The stranger waited until Geoff got to three. "And your father's name was Ian?"

Geoff instantly stopped counting. "Yes."

"And you've got seven siblings."

"Had." Geoff eyed the stranger sharply, snarling, "C'mon, you know so much about me. Name yourself!"

The stranger fumbled for something in his vest, which made the old SS officer's hackles stand on edge. But rather than pulling out a laser pistol, as Geoff had feared, he produced a dirty, creased photograph. He held it out to Geoff gingerly, as one does with something precious.

Geoff carefully accepted the picture with both hands. It was a full St. John family photograph, with Ian on the left, his four boys, three girls, and a tiny newborn in his arms. Geoff looked up, almost childish in his wonder. "Where- how did you get this?"

The stranger's eyes, a hazel with flinty sparkles of green amidst rich sepia, roared to life. He grinned. "Do you remember me, keko?"

Geoff's eyes grew wider and wider until no eyelid could be seen at all. His ears and tail stood on end from a rebirth of hope that he had thought dead long ago. "Ke-" he faltered and swallowed hard. "Kemmo? Mitch?"

Mitch accepted the photograph and carefully tucked it away. He grinned unstoppably. "And here I thought I should turn away from you! No, I thought you must be my brother. I knew I should persist." He leaned in to hug this person, who moments ago he'd believed to be gone. Uncertainly, but gladly, Geoff bear-hugged him in return. It was obvious that the latter was the baby brother, his tail hanging lower, his ears curved submissively.

After a moment, the two men remembered that they were in public and abruptly broke away from each other. Geoff cleared his throat, seizing Mitch by the wrist. "C'mon. We should head up to missin' persons. They'll tell me if you really are who you say you are."

They rode the green line, one of the few the city left unchanged, to the center for missing persons. The first thing they saw was a large, open, white room filled with a hodgepodge of people. A surprising amount of grown men sat with one other person, assumably for paternity tests. The occasional on-duty officer appeared with an orange-suited convict for DNA testing. Geoff tuned out all their eyes as he made an appointment at the front desk.

At first the wait was painful for the skunk, who sat in a state of mild shock. But soon he found himself engrossed in conversation with his supposed brother in their native tongue. Before anyone knew it, the nurse was calling, "St. John?"

The two stood, Geoff rubbing his snout as anxiety boiled a hole in his guts. A nurse coolly asked them the nature of their appointment, and Geoff briefly explained. She admitted them to another, smaller white room, where she instructed them each to lay on a cot on the opposite sides of the room. She drew a vial of blood from each of them. Geoff breathed deeply, not at all bothered by the blood or needle so much as the possibility of a living relative. There was a chance, however slight, that that tiny vial could change his entire life. He wrestled with these thoughts as he filled out a clipboard of information, so the clinic would know where to send the results.

Mitch didn't seem to understand what was going on, but he was smiling. He kept closing his eyes, which scared the nurse, who thought he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

After what felt like a lifetime, the two got up, and walked back out into the bustling noise of the city. Mitch was shocked by the contrast between the quiet clinic and the street. "So this is America!" Geoff nodded, nonplussed. He had lived in American Mobius twenty years now. It rarely surprised him anymore. "You are stressed."

"Yeah. What was yer first clue?"

Mitch shrugged, putting a hand on his brother's wrist. He asked softly, "What would you say if there were others?"

"Who?"

"You remember Karen?"

"Of course!" Geoff watched Mitch's face split into a grin. "You said 'others.' Who else?"

"The little ones."

"Yours?"

"Hers."


End file.
